


Road Less Travelled

by hvanwoong



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: (if you squint), Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pokemon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 66,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25035403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hvanwoong/pseuds/hvanwoong
Summary: Hwanwoong starts his Pokémon journey a little later than his peers after a long childhood illness. He plans to take it easy, fill up his Pokédex, and make some friends.He doesn’t expect to find himself entangled in the complicated life of a maverick Team Rocket agent who goes by the codename RAVN.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 133
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi ^-^ Since finishing The Man I Knew I have been itching to start posting my next ravnwoong fic! This one is what I would definitely called a niche fic. I don’t know if anyone will want to read a Pokémon AU. But I fell in love with it pretty fast. I hope that you enjoy it if you check it out <3

Waking up to paws pressing on his back insistently is nothing new to Hwanwoong, and he smiles into his pillow. The room is warm, and the bed squashy and comfortable; one of his arms is numb, and he thinks that his sleep must have been deep for him to stay in the same position for so long. When he cracks open one eye, he sees that sunlight is already pouring in through the window, and he rolls over with a yawn and a frown. Usually, his mom would have woken him up by now.

He blinks up at the ceiling for a second before his vision is obscured by his Growlithe jumping first onto his chest, and then licking his face. ‘ _Gross_!’ he groans, but he is laughing. As he sits up, he manages to move Growlithe into his lap, and then he jumps at the realisation that this room is not his bedroom.

The memories flood back, on a slight lag from the long sleep, and he gulps.

Growlithe jumps from his lap down onto the floor, scratching for his attention because it is past breakfast time already, but Hwanwoong is distracted by his surroundings. The room is small but beautifully kept, a vase of bright yellow flowers on the nightstand and a mural of water-type Pokémon covers the opposite wall. This is the Busan City Pokémon Centre, and this is Hwanwoong’s room for the night.

Once he checks-out, strictly before 11, he and his Growlithe will be alone in the world again, just themselves and the road ahead to rely on.

He’s finally begun his Pokémon journey, only a few years after everyone else.

He remembers the day that his classmates, the ones who dreamed of becoming Pokémon masters, finished up school once and for all and then set out with their starter Pokémon to take on the world. Hwanwoong wanted to join them, _God_ he wanted to join them, but his mom said no, that it was too much of a risk to his health, and even at that age he was too scared to argue. Instead, he attended the vocational college in the nearest town, a short bike ride from his village, and sat alongside his friends who wanted to become Breeders or Nurses or Scientists, dreaming of the road.

It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the classes. Learning about Pokémon every day could never be boring. He just wanted more. He wanted the fresh air in his hair as he biked from town to town, the weight of Poké Balls heavy on his belt, and the exhilaration of joining a Pokémon battle out in the wild or even in one of the city gyms. While he was sick, all he did was watch the Pokémon League on television. He never imagined that it would be his illness that would make everyone tell him that he _couldn’t_ pursue that dream.

Today, though, those arguments feel like a distant memory.

He’s here, now.

Growlithe runs around in excited circles when he climbs out of bed and treads on his feet in his excitement. Hwanwoong yelps as the claws dig into the top of his foot, and stumbles to his bag to find some clean clothes. Growlithe is disinterested in such a menial activity as dressing, and paws at his ankles, jumping up. Hwanwoong brushes his fingers through the fur on his head and allows him to take his finger between his teeth. Growlithe would never really bite him, but he likes to pretend.

They have a shared language that they’ve developed over the years, since his parents first brought home Growlithe to keep him company while he was sick, when he couldn’t go into school. Unlike most of his kind, Growlithe never whines, because he knows that Hwanwoong can’t always pick up the sound; if he really wants his attention, he barks, _loudly_ , or jumps up at him. This morning, he’s getting impatient, and if he isn’t careful then Hwanwoong is going to end up with torn jeans.

‘Growlithe! Stop!’ he laughs, and Growlithe sits down, sandy tail sweeping across the floor in excitement.

Hwanwoong understands – his mind is the on the canteen downstairs too as his stomach rumbles. He’s nervous, though. The Pokémon Centres are the social hub of any Pokémon city, and Hwanwoong has never been so good at making friends. Maybe he was when he was very young, but he doesn’t remember. Now he’s years behind his peer group and he wonders if they’ll think it’s weird, and he doesn’t like being in groups at the best of times because it’s too difficult for him to keep track of what everyone is saying.

Making friends, though, is an integral part of the Pokémon journey. It’s hard to make it across the nation, navigating forests and seas and mountain ranges, without people around you. Hwanwoong knows this. He’s just tried not to think too much about it until now.

He reaches for the gold Poké Ball on the nightstand that contains his hearing aids, and picks up his bag. ‘Come on, Growlithe,’ he says, with a reassuring smile. His partner doesn’t need to feel his human anxiety, doesn’t need to feel the bubbling nerves in his stomach.

Out in the corridor, as he closes the door behind him, Growlithe bounds ahead, like he remembers the way from last night and will launch his way to the canteen, accompanied or not. Hwanwoong follows a little slower, his feet dragging. The hallway is deserted, and he hopes that he might have missed the breakfast rush, but when he walks down the stairs he sees that there are people hanging around in the lobby. They’re all in groups of twos or threes, their conversations a mist in the air.

As he reaches the bottom of the stairs he slips his hearing aids into place and hangs the case back on his belt. Almost immediately, like the volume has been turned up on the world, their voices become clearer, more discernible from individual to individual but still difficult to make out from such a distance. He scoots past them into the canteen and joins the dwindling line for breakfast.

‘Growlithe!’ he hisses, when his Pokémon darts ahead again and starts to dodge between the legs of the other trainers waiting. Growlithe looks back, and cocks his head to one side, but then bounds back into action in a second. Hwanwoong sighs, but his Pokémon has never known how to behave himself, and he can’t begrudge him the excitement when the room is buzzing with trainers and other Pokémon.

In front of him in the queue are two trainers, one with an Aipom sat atop his shoulder nibbling snacks while his trainer talks, and the other petting the Mareep by her side. There are squawks in the air from a huddle of Spearow and Pidgey who are gathering around someone holding out bowls of feed. The noise is much louder than in the lobby and Hwanwoong hits the volume control on his aids, suddenly uncomfortable. The canteen is only half full, with plenty of space on the long tables, but it is still more people than he is used to being around back home in the village.

When he gets to the self-serve bar, he fills his tray with as much as he can and then loads a bowl up with Pokibble for Growlithe. On turning around, his eyes scan straight to an empty section at the end of one of the benches and he makes a beeline for it. His mom’s voice rings in his mind – _‘Sit with some people! Start a conversation! Make some friends!’_ – but he ignores it and sits on the very last spot. Growlithe jumps onto the bench next to him and places both paws on the edge of his tray until he places the bowl down on the bench.

Hwanwoong pulls out his map, a gift from the Professor in his town, and lays it out on the table. The city of Busan is a thriving metropolis for Pokémon trainers, with a major gym and all sorts of competition facilities, but Hwanwoong needs to train up Growlithe and catch some more Pokémon before he can even think about that. If he heads north along the coast then there will be plenty of towns before he reaches Ulsan, but if he heads inland to the low mountains that he has a better chance of encountering wild Pokémon.

‘What shall we do, Growlithe?’ he murmurs, and then he looks up, stomach flipping over when he realises that Growlithe is gone. His eyes fly around the room in a panic, and then his face flattens in a long-suffering kind of way when he sees that Growlithe has attached himself to a pair of trainers on the next table along, and is currently eating the treats they’re handing out. ‘Oh crap,’ he mutters.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Growlithe does not share his fear of strangers.

He collects his map and slopes over to the table nervously. ‘Come on, Growlithe,’ he says in an awkward voice, ‘don’t bother them.’

Growlithe doesn’t look up at him, intent on consuming the treats, but the two trainers do. They both have friendly faces. One is smiling such a radiant smile that his eyes turn into little half-moons, and the other has a gentler, quieter sort of face that doesn’t match his stocky body. ‘It’s okay,’ the latter says, ‘we don’t mind! Sit down.’

There doesn’t seem a reasonable way to argue, so Hwanwoong slides down onto the bench and fiddles nervously with the hair over his ear.

‘I’m Seoho, this is Geonhak,’ says the boy with the charming smile. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Yeo Hwanwoong,’ he answers in a more formal manner. ‘This is Growlithe. Just Growlithe.’ He never gave his partner a nickname, even though the other kids did. Because Growlithe already responded to that name and Hwanwoong didn’t want to confuse him by changing it. ‘I’m sorry he came to steal your treats.’

Seoho laughs. ‘It’s okay. He could smell them in my pocket. Our Pokémon are with the nurses now – it took us a long time to get through the parks on the way here so they were exhausted.’

A quiet falls, in which the only close sound is Growlithe munching on the treats in Seoho’s palm. When Geonhak starts to talk, Hwanwoong looks up quickly by habit. It’s easier to keep up if he starts to reads lips as he goes, even when he’s wearing his aids. Having that back-up is almost comforting. Geonhak’s voice is deep and warm, so rich in tone that it sounds like singing. The sound reverberates through Hwanwoong’s mics. He’s always found it harder to keep up with lower pitches when speaking.

‘Are you here to challenge the Gym Leader?’ asks Geonhak.

‘Oh no, no!’ he laughs. ‘I’ve – well I’ve only just started my journey. Growlithe is my only Pokémon.’

At that, Seoho looks up curiously. They’re both older than Hwanwoong but not by much. ‘You’re a little old to be starting out aren’t you?’

Hwanwoong swallows and his fingers reach out to stroke Growlithe’s back as he sometimes does when he’s nervous. ‘It’s not that strange. I’ll catch up fast!’ He hunches up his shoulders until they almost touch his ears, like if he makes himself small enough he’ll be able to disappear from this conversation altogether.

‘I didn’t mean to offend you!’ says Seoho with wide, apologetic eyes. ‘I was just curious. You won’t want to challenge the Gym Leader here, yet, if you only have your Growlithe with you. The Leader here uses water-type Pokémon. Do you know where you’re going to travel next?’

‘I thought about travelling up the coast, or heading inward towards the mountainous regions. I’m not sure.’

‘The coast would be a good way to get some water-type Pokémon under your belt. But it’ll be difficult to win battles with only your fire-type,’ says Geonhak. ‘If you hang around the city for a while you could catch an electric-type, that would help you out a lot in the coastal regions. There is a warehouse downtown that I’ve heard becomes filled with Magnemite at night!’

Hwanwoong wonders whether he could really catch a Magnemite. It’s not like he has never battled wild Pokémon before, but so far it has only been the Rattata and occasional Zigzagoon who found their way into his garden back home. A steel electric type would be a new challenge. Growlithe is brave and strong though and Hwanwoong has a bag filled with Ultra Balls that his mom gifted him before he began his journey, and they should be strong enough to catch most wild Pokémon.

‘I think I’ll go there tonight,’ he nods.

‘Here,’ Seoho pulls out another map, this one a closer diagram of Busan city itself. He circles the Pokémon Centre and draws a wiggling line down the streets until marking an X over another building. ‘This is the place. You’ll need to wait until nightfall. But be careful, I’ve heard that Team Rocket are operating in the area.’

Geonhak elbows him in the ribs. ‘Don’t scare him. It’s all just rumours!’

‘It’s not!’ says Seoho in defence. Hwanwoong’s head glances from one to the other to keep up. ‘Officer Jennie was in the Pokémon Centre last night when I came down to check on Skitty. She was talking to the nurses asking if they’d heard anything. The police are involved.’

Hwanwoong gulps. He knows all about Team Rocket. Ever since the takeover of their new leadership, he knows that they have expanded out their regions of operation into many different countries. The low-level grunts can be found all over towns, committing petty crimes and trying to steal Pokémon. They are weak, but Hwanwoong is only just at the start of his journey. He decides to leave at dusk rather than night-time, when there will still be plenty of people about in the streets.

‘Thank you for your help,’ he says and he climbs off the bench. His shyness has overtaken him, and he begins to worry that he’s intruding on their breakfast together. He gives them both a bow. ‘Come on Growlithe.’

The guys look surprised, but they don’t object when he hurries away. He has to grab Growlithe under his arm, because the puppy Pokémon is not eager to leave his source of treats.

~

Twilight is a pretty time of day in downtown Busan. The town is still thriving. On one corner, a busker is singing with a guitar and a Clefable. Two neon signs from all night cafes flicker pink and green across the darkening street and the sound of music emerges from a club that is just beginning to wake up. This sort of sound grates at him, a constant hum that he can’t make out; it nags like tinnitus. When Hwanwoong passes an alleyway, a small collective of Meowth shrink into the darkness. Not wanting to disturb them, Hwanwoong hurries on, following the map that Seoho gave to him in the direction of the warehouse.

Growlithe bounds ahead in excitement, like he can tell they’re in for an adventure.

The warehouse is down two further roads, buried in amongst an industrial estate. A few Machop laze around, their work for the day done, and Hwanwoong bows to their trainers but he’s so focused on what is coming, his first attempt at catching a wild Pokémon.

When he reaches the right warehouse, he can see why it would be the perfect habitat for Magnemite. The building is visibly disused, in a state of disrepair. Broken cables have broken free from their protective cases and flicker with ominous sparks; the shutter over the old truck entrance is only half down, and there is a large dent so deep that Hwanwoong could sit in it. He looks up at the grey sky and takes a long, deep breath before heading towards the broken shutter.

He ducks underneath and pulls out his torch.

As soon as it lights up, he catches movement from the corner of his eye. His eyesight is sharp, because he learned a long time ago to rely on his other senses more than his hearing. The torchlight scans around the large empty space, but there is nothing to see. If he couldn’t sense the presence of Pokémon, he would think that the warehouse was deserted. The Magnemite won’t appear with the intrusion of the light. He switches the torch off and swallows, waiting for his eyes to adapt to the darkness.

It’s scary to be without his eyes.

He has his Growlithe, though.

The Pokémon pushes ahead, and with the tiny glimmers of light that make it inside Hwanwoong can make out his bright tail. He follows, notching a Poké Ball ready at his belt, and tries to listen, but all he can make out is a low hum. It could be the buzz of electricity, but more likely it is the interference of the electric Pokémon with his aids. His eyes catch sight of a slight movement in the darkness, and he shouts out a command to Growlithe. ‘Growlithe, use Howl!’

The haunting sound echoes around the empty warehouse. It’s an attack that gets Growlithe fired up, and it also intimidates the opponent. Sure enough, one of the wild Magnemite appears, confused by the sound and there is a flash of electricity. It hits something overhead and Hwanwoong has to duck out of the way in a panic. The blinding yellow bolt brings the place to life for a second, like a freeze-frame, and Hwanwoong sees the small Magnemite travelling overhead.

‘Growlithe, Ember!’

The fire-type attack will not do too much damage against the Magnemite’s steel body, but it is Growlithe’s most powerful attack that he’s learned so far. Fire lights up the warehouse again, this time with a reddish glow, and Hwanwoong watches as the steel scorches black. His hand shakes as he pulls free his Poké Ball (he doesn’t want to waste his Ultra Balls yet so early in the journey) and he launches the ball through the air.

For a second, the warehouse goes black again, and then the dim red light of the Poké Ball opens into a beam and Magnemite is sucked inside.

The ball falls somewhere far away from Hwanwoong, and he has to withdraw his torch again because he did not catch the sound of where it fell.

When the torchlight brings light back, he sees the Poké Ball shudder twice before settling to stillness.

His heart in his throat, Hwanwoong creeps towards the ball. When he picks it up, his hands shake a little, like it might explode. He can hardly believe that there is a Magnemite held inside. Growlithe skips up beside him and nuzzles at his leg, so Hwanwoong scratches his head to tell him that he did a good job. He hooks the ball onto his belt, thoughts on returning to the Pokémon Centre right away to heal up his new Pokémon, and ducks out from the warehouse before any of the other angry Magnemite – or more worryingly _Magneton_ – set upon him.

The sun has faded altogether now, and blue twilight has taken over the greying light. Growlithe runs ahead again, and this time Hwanwoong starts to run after him. Excitement is beginning to set in as his mind catches up with what has happened. The first Pokémon that he has caught for himself. A _Magnemite_. He laughs and the sound carries on the light spring breeze.

Growlithe opens his mouth to bark, but from the distance between them Hwanwoong doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t need to. He recognises the movement and anticipates the bark instead.

Then, before his eyes, a Poké Ball flies in front of him and just misses Growlithe.

‘Hey!’ he shouts, spinning around. The street is deserted. ‘That’s my Growlithe!’ He glares, angry that someone would try to catch a Pokémon in the street without checking for a trainer first. He calls Growlithe over, but Growlithe only makes it halfway before a figure launches from the shadows in front of Hwanwoong and tries to grab the Pokémon. ‘ _Hey_!’ Hwanwoong shouts again, and this time fury takes over.

His heart launches into panic as the figure tries to scoop up Growlithe, and Hwanwoong does the only thing that he can think of – he jumps up onto his back. The stranger lets out a grunt of surprise as Hwanwoong pulls him back and they both fall in a bundle to the ground. ‘Get off!’ the man yells, but Hwanwoong does not let go.

Growlithe is barking, so loud that people will surely come to help.

‘You tried to steal my Pokémon!’ says Hwanwoong, through gritted teeth. Whatever happens, he cannot let go. Growlithe is his closest friend, his beloved companion, and he will not allow some dirty thief to get his hands on him. Growlithe lets out a low, loud growl and bites the man’s leg. The thief lets out a yowl like a cat and tries to kick him off. ‘Get him, Growlithe!’

A gasp breaks out from Hwanwoong’s mouth as an elbow smacks into his ribs, and he is at last thrown off. He clutches his stomach, the pain beginning to radiate, and watches helplessly as the man manages to kick Growlithe away. To his relief, though, he does not make a grab for him, because at that very second Hwanwoong catches the distant sound of a siren.

To the thief, it will sound much closer. The man starts to run but he is limping, one hand on his bleeding leg, but Hwanwoong can’t chase after him. The wind has been knocked out of him and his ribs ache. Growlithe snuffles up beside him and licks over his shirt as if to heal a hidden wound.

Hwanwoong closes his eyes and pants heavily, his fingers winding into the fur. ‘It’s okay,’ he says, ‘it’s okay.’

Blue light overtakes his vision and he props himself up on his elbows. A police motorbike has pulled up beside him, alerted by Growlithe’s barks, and an Officer climbs from the seat. She is small in stature, but her posture makes her seem taller. Her hair is dark but bleached blonde at the front, and her clothes are not the dark blue of the city police, but a lighter colour with purple stitching. It is the colour of a special taskforce.

‘What happened here?’ she calls out, clear and loud. ‘I heard a Growlithe!’

Hwanwoong sits up and takes his Pokémon into his lap with protective arms. ‘I was attacked. A man tried to steal my Pokémon!’

The Officer crouches down beside him. ‘It’s alright. I’m Officer Jennie, part of the special taskforce sent to investigate the activities of Team Rocket. I think that you may have been attacked by one of their agents. Did you see which way he ran?’

Hwanwoong nods towards the dark alley. ‘He was limping, my Growlithe bit him.’

Officer Jennie smiles and ruffles the fur on Growlithe’s head. ‘Good boy,’ she says. Then she speaks into a police radio fixed to her collar and asks for cars to come to the area and give chase. ‘Here, let me help you,’ she says to Hwanwoong, helping him to his feet. ‘Are you hurt?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, I was just scared for my Pokémon.’

‘Of course,’ she says. There is anger in her eyes. She draws out a notepad from her pocket and a silver pen. With expectant eyes, she asks, ‘can you give me a description of the attacker?’

Worry starts to rise up in Hwanwoong’s mind. It was dark, and everything happened so fast. He wracks his brain for what he can recall. ‘He was taller than me, but not super tall. Dark hair. He was dressed in a long-sleeved black shirt and a black jacket. But I can’t remember… it was dark.’

‘That’s okay. What’s your name?’

‘Yeo Hwanwoong,’ he says in a shaky voice.

‘Hwanwoong, there is an operative of Team Rocket in the area. We don’t know his full identity yet, but some of our sources tell us that the code-name is R-A-V-N, like the raven, because of the way he dresses in all black. This may have been the agent who attacked you. Don’t you worry, we are on the case! Do you want me to take you back to the station?’

‘I – I’d rather go to the Pokémon Centre,’ he says, ‘I just caught a Magnemite and I want to get it healed up.’ He doesn’t know why he told Officer Jennie this, but she gives him a smile.

‘I feel like we’ll meet again, Yeo Hwanwoong. Be careful. These cities are not as safe as they used to be. You should stick with your friends.’

He nods rapidly. He’s not going to admit that he doesn’t _have_ any friends yet. As she sets off in the direction that the Team Rocket agent fled, he picks up his Growlithe. For once, Growlithe does not protest at being carried, and instead buries his face into Hwanwoong’s jacket. He makes a mental note not to let him run ahead anymore.

As he begins his walk back to the Pokémon Centre, all he can think about is the dangerous thief, the man dressed all in black. _R-A-V-N_. He says every letter aloud, tasting them on his tongue, and then shudders.

He cannot understand why someone would choose to join Team Rocket.

Why would anyone want to make a life out of stealing Pokémon?

~

At the Pokémon Centre, everyone is talking about the sighting of Team Rocket downtown. Hwanwoong does not know how news travelled so fast, but he finds himself caught on a wave of interest when he slips between the automatic doors and heads to the counter. A crowd of trainers set upon him, shouting out questions and asking for a blow-by-blow of how he and Growlithe escaped Team Rocket’s clutches. He gulps and tries to concentrate on handing over his Magnemite to the nurse.

‘Coming through! Coming through!’

The loud shout makes him turn around in search of the source, and he sees with a strange relief that Seoho and Geonhak are barging through the crowd. Or, rather, Seoho is barging through the crowd, and Geonhak is following in his wake and bowing in apology to some of the trainers knocked aside.

‘Hwanwoong-ah, we heard what happened!’ announces Seoho, as if they’ve been friends for years. ‘We were so worried.’

‘I’m okay,’ he says.

Seoho creates something of a perimeter around him and leans close with his big smile. ‘Forget Team Rocket, though, did you catch a Magnemite?’

Hwanwoong gives him a shy nod.

‘Awesome! You’ll be ready to leave with us in the morning, then?’

For a second, Hwanwoong just stares at him, unable to figure out what the words mean. Seoho laughs and rests a hand down on his shoulder, making him jump.

‘We’re going to head north. I earned my Busan City badge today and Geonhak wants to challenge the Gym in Daegu. We’re going to start travelling through the National Park. You’d be able to catch a lot of new Pokémon there. You in?’

It takes Hwanwoong a moment to answer, and then he nods, unable to imagine that he’s made two friends on his journey already, and that he won’t be alone travelling north. His heart flutters, and he has the sudden urge to send an email to his mom. Then he remembers that he’d have to tell her about what happened with Team Rocket, and he thinks that she might march all the way to Busan to drag him back home to the village so he decides against it.

‘Yeah, I’m in,’ he says with the best smile that he can muster.

The Pokémon Centre permits him to stay for the second night on the house, because no one has stopped talking about his heroics down near the warehouse. Somehow, the more times that people tell it, the more ridiculous the story becomes. One group approaches Hwanwoong over dinner to ask whether he really apprehended the Team Rocket agent all by himself and held him prisoner until Officer Jennie arrived.

It is a relief when Hwanwoong can escape to his room and collapse onto the bed alone.

He doesn’t even pull back the blankets, just pressing his face into the mattress and sighing. Growlithe bounds up beside him and paws at his back. There’s a beam of light and his newly healed Magnemite bursts from its Poké Ball and starts to float around the room in interest. It emits a low hum, and it reminds Hwanwoong that he can settle into silence for a moment.

He takes out his aids and puts them back into their case.

A blanket of quiet settles over him, the hum of Magnemite and the distant chatter of trainers in the building no longer audible. Loud sounds would still alert him, but in the private room, for a minute everything is silent. He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. There are small engravings of Pokémon on the coving that he had not noticed before. Growlithe lies down across his stomach and Hwanwoong strokes his fingers into his warm fur.

The stress of chaos outdoors starts to fade as he finds comfort in the touch, like he used to when he was sick as a child. Growlithe licks his hand and he laughs, watching as his new Magnemite flies overhead and pauses by the electric light fitting as if examining it. Hwanwoong wonders whether this Magnemite has ever seen the outside of that warehouse, and he speaks a silent promise to show him all of the amazing sights in the world. They’ll discover them together.

This day under his belt, two Pokémon with him, two friends waiting for his company and a route set out, Hwanwoong finally feels ready to start his journey for real.

Despite the excitement of the day, he drifts into an easy sleep.

~

Setting off with Seoho and Geonhak is a new experience. In the past, Hwanwoong has always travelled alone or with his mom. To the Pokémon college in town, he rode his bike by himself, and before that whenever he was allowed to attend school it was his mom that dropped him off. Being with friends, more or less his own age, is exciting. And to his relief, Seoho and Geonhak do not make him feel like a third wheel. In fact, when they set off on their bikes from the Busan metropolis, they make Hwanwoong ride in the middle of the two of them.

Sunlight pours across the streets and the spring air is cool but pleasant as it rolls through his hair.

‘So why did you start your journey so late?’ asks Seoho as they pass the sign pointing towards the National Park. They have officially left the relative safety of the city and from this point forward are prepared to encounter wild Pokémon and other trainers looking for a battle.

Hwanwoong looks down at the ground ahead, watching his bike tyre turn like a hypnotic wheel. He knows that this kind of thing is normal for friends to talk about, so he clears his throat. ‘I was sick when I was a kid.’

‘What did you have?’

‘ _Seoho_!’ says Geonhak in an aghast voice, like he can’t believe his friend has asked such a thing.

‘Poképox,’ he answers without pause. He’s not ashamed of it.

‘Oh…’ Seoho pulls up his bike with a scrape of shoes on gravel. Hwanwoong is grateful, because it’s harder to hear when they’re moving. ‘That’s pretty serious, huh?’

‘Yes,’ he shrugs, ‘but it’s okay. The infection caused some permanent damage to my hearing, and sometimes I get sick more easily than other people now, but I made a good recovery.’

After finishing, Hwanwoong cringes, waiting for the usual barrage of questions. Usually, people begin to stumble over themselves in their haste to make him feel comfortable, and in the process tend to make him very, very uncomfortable. Sometimes people start to talk so loudly that he winces, or they begin to move their mouths so unnaturally in their attempt to enunciate that he can’t read their lips the way he used to after familiarising himself with their patterns.

After a second though, Seoho just gives him a nod and a smile and starts to pedal again. ‘That’s good.’

They haven’t asked him the usual rude questions: _are you still sick? Is it contagious_?

Hwanwoong smiles to himself and follows on.

He notices Seoho and Geonhak starting to get excited when they see a pair of trainers up ahead, and he can tell that they’re raring for a battle. He gulps, hoping that they won’t ask him to join, because he’s not sure he’s ready for that yet. ‘Do you mind?’ asks Seoho, nodding towards them, and Hwanwoong shakes his head quickly.

‘No, no, go for it!’

The area is grassy, plush green and shaded by several large trees. Hwanwoong knows that there is a forest not far ahead in the middle of the National Park. ‘Do you mind if I go ahead?’ he asks, eager to see what grass and bug Pokémon he might find in the woods.

‘Sure, sure, we’ll catch you up!’ grins Seoho.

Hwanwoong rides on with a glance over his shoulder to see Seoho throwing the Poké Ball holding his Skitty. Geonhak’s first Pokémon is a Marill.

The forest region of the nation park is only a short ride away, and he pedals faster when he sees it coming, excitement in his chest. The trees are tall and densely packed, and there is a sign warning that the area is protected by conservation laws. Trainers are reminded to be responsible with their catching and never take more than one of the same type of Pokémon. It will be impossible to ride here, so Hwanwoong dismounts and walks his bike in amongst the shade of the trees.

The grassy part of the park is left behind in no time, and a darkness descends from the dense canopy. Growlithe hops down from his hood and starts to jump through the undergrowth, nose alight with action as he takes in the new smells. Hwanwoong peers around, but there are no other trainers in sight at the moment.

At one point, he gasps as he almost walks straight into a hanging Kakuna. He clutches his hand over his mouth to stop himself yelling out. The eerie cocoon swings and he takes a few hurried steps back; he does not want to disturb an angry pack of Beedrill it they are in the area. The Kakuna looks back at him with narrowed dark eyes, and he takes his leave quickly in the direction of a more well-worn path.

A few small Caterpie make their way across the dirt path ahead, but Hwanwoong does not think to catch them. They’re so peaceful, going about their way. He just smiles and avoids stepping on any. Deeper in the forest, he knows there will be the rarer species: Scyther, and maybe even Bulbasaur. He has an advantage in the woods, because Growlithe as a fire-type should be able to win any battles that he encounters.

There is a movement in the leaves to his left and he swings around, eyes scanning for the source. When he looks up, he sees a Treecko scaling one of the trees, and he gasps with excitement. His hand goes to his belt for a Poké Ball, but at that moment he sees something else out of the corner of his vision.

He pauses and narrows his eyes.

In amongst the trees there is a person, and he’s sat down on the floor, back against the tree as if he is hurt.

Hwanwoong swallows and looks around. With a sigh, he forgets the Treecko and climbs in amongst the shrubs and vines that cover the forest floor. Growlithe stays back, and when Hwanwoong turns with a frown he sees that the Pokémon’s lips are drawn back to bare his teeth. ‘Growlithe, what – ’

‘Don’t move!’

Hwanwoong looks back and his heart drops when he sees that the figure has stood, one arm bracing himself against the tree.

The man is dressed in black, a leather jacket and jeans and combat boots more suited to the woods than Hwanwoong’s sneakers. Growlithe knows him. It can only be the agent from the city, the man who attacked him in the street. The one with the codename RAVN. Hwanwoong’s heart starts to pound and he takes a step back in panic, but then he sees the Pokémon on the ground. He cannot run away, not when there might be a Pokémon in trouble.

It is curled up, and Growlithe starts forward again this time with a cautious gait.

‘Did you hurt that Pokémon?’ demands Hwanwoong, and his voice sounds braver than he feels. He straightens up and puffs his chest out, even though he knows he will not be able to take the man in a real fight.

Ravn looks back, then takes a shaky step from the shadows. His leg is still hurt. ‘ _No_. That’s my Pokémon.’

In the light that breaks through from the trees overhead, Hwanwoong can see that his eyes are red, like he has been _crying_. Suddenly less intimidated, he frowns. ‘Prove it!’

‘I don’t have to prove anything!’ Ravn snaps, and right before Hwanwoong’s eyes he pulls out a knife from his belt.

Hwanwoong stumbles back and the fear returns, this time grabbing hold of his throat. ‘What are you doing? Fight with your Pokémon, you coward!’ Once again, his terror doesn’t show in his voice. It’s typical of Team Rocket, this kind of disgraceful behaviour. Carrying weapons.

‘I can’t!’ Ravn grits his teeth, and then his bitten leg gives out and he drops back down to the ground, throwing away the knife. ‘Raven is sick.’ His voice breaks, and Hwanwoong notices that Ravn looks hardly any older than him. His hair is dirty and unwashed and there are dark circles around his red-rimmed eyes. He looks thin and uncared for and there is no sparkle in his eyes.

He picks up the curled-up Pokémon and takes it into his lap, and Hwanwoong’s fear evaporates. He realises after a moment of confusion that the man is talking about his Pokémon, not himself, and Hwanwoong steps towards him. ‘Let me look.’

The man holds his Pokémon away protectively, but Hwanwoong crouches down and holds out his hand.

‘Let me look,’ he repeats.

Ravn holds out the Pokémon called Raven and Hwanwoong lifts it gently into his own arms.

The Umbreon is jet back, with sleek short fur and a bushy yellow-ringed tail. It is a beautiful Pokémon, one of the rarest evolutions of Eevee. He wonders whether Ravn stole it, but he shakes the thought from his mind; that isn’t important right now. The agent clearly cares for this Pokémon.

‘She’s been sick for days. She can’t fight anymore, and she can’t even walk out of her Poké Ball,’ says Ravn, and his voice cracks.

‘A female Umbreon? This is very rare,’ murmurs Hwanwoong. He strokes her head and she opens one sleepy eye, but he notices that her eyes are claggy with infection. ‘If this is Raven then what is _your_ name?’

‘It’s none of your business!’ he snaps.

‘You tried to steal my Growlithe! It’s absolutely my business! And I won’t help you unless you tell me.’

‘Youngjo,’ he mutters. ‘My name is Youngjo.’

‘This Pokémon is very sick,’ whispers Hwanwoong, ‘she needs to go to the Pokémon Centre.’

‘ _No_. You help her. You must carry potions!’

‘A potion won’t be enough to heal her, she needs to see a nurse,’ he says. He tries to keep authority in his voice, because that’s the only way he can keep in control of this situation. There is a phone in his bag, and he knows he could call the police, but then Youngjo will flee with this sick Pokémon and she might never get help. He must be careful, careful with how to handle this.

He wonders if Seoho and Geonhak are already on their way to catch him up.

‘I can’t go to a Pokémon Centre. They’ll arrest me and – and they’ll take Raven away from me.’

It is hard to feel sympathy for a criminal, especially a criminal who tried to take away _his_ Pokémon, but already Hwanwoong feels his heart wavering. He’s always been a very empathetic person. ‘I – I’ll go to the Pokémon Centre.’

‘You’ll bring back a nurse?’

‘No,’ he sighs, ‘I’ll take Raven to the Pokémon Centre myself.’

Anger glints across Youngjo’s eyes and he reaches out to grab her back. ‘No!’

‘What other solution do you have?’ he demands.

‘Then you have to leave your Growlithe with me until you get back!’

‘No chance,’ he says in disgust. ‘I’m the one helping _you_. You’re a criminal. You don’t get to negotiate.’

There is a moment of silence, and then Youngjo winces as he tries to stand and drops back down again. A glance at his leg tells Hwanwoong that blood has soaked through his jeans from Growlithe’s bite. For a second, he feels a wave of pride for his Pokémon, but then he reminds himself of the issue at hand and he sobers his expression again.

‘You ought to see a nurse yourself.’

‘I’ll fix this up once I get back to camp. It’s not a big deal.’

‘Camp? You mean Team Rocket’s camp.’ He shakes his head and pulls a face of disdain. ‘I hate you guys. What makes you think you have the right to take other people’s Pokémon, huh? And all for money!’

Youngjo grits his teeth. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You wouldn’t understand.’

‘I understand. I just think you’re sick.’

‘No one _chooses_ to join Team Rocket! You have no idea.’

What that can mean, Hwanwoong doesn’t know, but he holds the Umbreon close in his arms and stands up. ‘There are two friends who will be looking for me. Their names are Seoho and Geonhak. If you see them then you must tell them that I’ve gone on to the next town to visit the Pokémon Centre. And if I find out that you’ve caused them any trouble then I’ll call the police right away. I mean it.’

‘How will you find me, when you bring Umbreon back?’

Hwanwoong pauses. ‘There is a sign about the conservation of the forest, back the way I came. Stay close to this area and I will find you.’

There is a moment in which their eyes meet and Youngjo seems to be deciding whether to beg him or threaten him. He ends up somewhere in the middle. ‘Please bring my Umbreon back. If you don’t then - ’

‘I’ll be back as soon as I can!’ shouts Hwanwoong, and he runs to his abandoned bike, basketball shoes slapping on the earth. If he keeps following the main path then he’ll find his way to the next town in no time. And this sick Umbreon doesn’t _have_ time to spare. He tucks her into his jacket as Growlithe climbs up into his hood, and he only looks back once as he starts to pedal away.

Youngjo is stood in the middle of the path, tilted to one side as his bad leg buckles. Alone and vulnerable, he doesn’t look like a Team Rocket agent.

He just looks scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


	2. Chapter 2

The small town on the outskirts of the National Park is close-knit, and in the spring sunshine, almost everyone is outside. Some are tending to the beds of brightly coloured flowers in front of their houses, while children play with Pokémon in amongst the adults going about their work. It is little more than a village, very much like the one that Hwanwoong grew up in, and that makes it the worst place possible for him to arrive on suspicious business.

As he rides through the village towards the Pokémon Centre, he feels guilt in his stomach, like he’s an accomplice to some sort of crime. He reminds himself that helping a sick Pokémon is not the same thing as helping an agent of Team Rocket. He will heal up this Umbreon, and then be on his way with Seoho and Geonhak, never to get involved with these kinds of people ever again.

The Pokémon Centre is as small as the town, and there are only a couple of trainers inside who must’ve come from the forest too. He parks up his bike and does not bother to lock it safely because there is not going to be theft in a village this small. At the counter, he rings the bell, and after a second the nurse appears.

She is around his height, with dark hair in loose waves and a red-lipsticked smile that belongs in the big city rather than somewhere like this. ‘Hello, I’m Nurse Joy,’ she beams, and then she looks down at the Umbreon that Hwanwoong unwraps from his jacket. ‘Oh no, this Pokémon is very sick!’

Hwanwoong places her down on the counter and Nurse Joy picks her up immediately again to examine her eyes.

‘This looks like a nasty upper respiratory infection. You ought to have brought her to the Pokémon Centre earlier.’

Hwanwoong opens his mouth and then closes it again, furious that Youngjo has put him in this position. ‘I – I couldn’t. Because I was lost in the woods…’ he trails off, and he knows that it sounds like a pathetic excuse. ‘Will you be able to make her better?’

‘Of course,’ says Nurse Joy, ‘but you’ll need to stay overnight at least.’

He gulps, wondering how long it will take Youngjo to start hunting him down in a rage. ‘Okay.’

‘Do any of your other Pokémon need healing?’

‘No, no,’ he shakes his head. He never got to have any battles in the National Park in the end; never had a chance to catch any rare grass Pokémon like that Treecko. ‘My Growlithe and Magnemite will be hungry though. Do you have a canteen?’ As he asks, his own stomach rumbles to remind him that he needs to eat too.

The canteen in this Pokémon Centre is nothing like the huge hall back in Busan City. There are two picnic benches and an unmanned buffet with little selection. Hwanwoong chooses some food and brings it to one of the tables. He is the only one eating here. With a sigh, he wonders how long it will take for Seoho and Geonhak to find him, and what questions they will have. The last thing that he wants for his two new friends is to get them involved with Team Rocket.

How has he done this to himself?

He’s only just begun his journey and now _this_.

He’ll need to book a room for the night and that will eat into the budget that he’s allowed until he reaches the next city. In addition to that, he needs to the go the Mart and see if he can find any supplies to help bandage up Youngjo’s leg. No matter who he is, he cannot just leave him bleeding in the forest.

Growlithe climbs onto the picnic table, and Hwanwoong does not tell him to get down. There’s no one around to worry about.

He takes out his map and identifies the village. There is no police force in a town this small, but he wonders where Officer Jennie is. Will she be searching for Youngjo already? Will they have traced him to the forest?

Why does he care?

Questions bang around in his mind and he closes his eyes to try to focus. He keeps thinking how mad his mom will be if she finds out what he has got himself wrapped up in so soon after leaving home. Perhaps she was right after all, and he wasn’t destined for a Pokémon journey.

Maybe he’s just not built for it.

~

Hwanwoong has a restless night of sleep in the room rented to him by the Pokémon Centre. It is nothing like the bright, airy room back in the city. It is cramped, with barely enough room for Growlithe and Magnemite to move around outside their Poké Balls, and the mattress has springs threatening to break through every time that he moves. At around 1am, he stands up just to pace the small gap between the walls. He can’t stop thinking about Youngjo and whether he is sleeping alone in woods. And _where_ are Seoho and Geonhak? They ought to have caught up with him by now.

He climbs back into bed and forces his eyes closed. He must get some sleep. There is no lamp so when he switches off the main light he sleeps in total darkness, and in familiar silence.

His heart stops when sometime in the early hours his shoulder is shaken.

He’s used to being woken up by Growlithe, or by his mom, but this time he jerks up in a panic, his mind cloudy. A blinding light is switched on and he covers his eyes as they start to sting.

‘ _Hwanwoong_!’

The voice is muffled, but when he cracks one eye back open he sees Seoho’s face very close to his. He fumbles for his hearing aids on the nightstand, because Seoho is already talking and he cannot keep up.

As the room comes back into focus at the same time as sound, he sees a most bizarre scene unfolding.

At the foot of the bed in the tiny space stands Geonhak, one arm looped in _Youngjo’s_ , who appears to have his hands tied behind his back and is staring up at the ceiling as if he would rather be anywhere else. Seoho is wedged on the side of Hwanwoong’s bed, Skitty up on his shoulder with her usual serene expression. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ says Seoho, as he realises that Hwanwoong is only just catching up. ‘Oh thank _God_ Hwanwoong. You need to stop running off into trouble!’

He’s about to protest that it’s not his fault, and that trouble seems to be finding _him,_ but then Youngjo is talking. ‘Can you tell your _goons_ to untie me?’

‘What happened?’ says Hwanwoong in disbelief.

‘We found him in the woods! Team Rocket, out in the National Park! And before long he fed us this ridiculous story about a sick Pokémon and you going to the town and we couldn’t let him go without checking that he hadn’t kidnapped you or _worse_. Now… now I guess the ridiculous story is true.’ Seoho talks very fast, but Hwanwoong picks up the rhythm of his lips quite quickly. ‘So anyway, we brought him with us. Geonhak apprehended him.’

Geonhak gives Hwanwoong a warm smile.

Youngjo just rolls his eyes and struggles against whatever the two of them found to tie him with.

‘We had to sneak him in,’ says Geonhak, ‘but it wasn’t hard. There’s no one around anywhere in this town.’

‘Where’s Raven?’ Youngjo demands, apparently sick of listening to this conversation.

Hwanwoong stands up and smooths down the front of the Pikachu shirt that he slept in, a little embarrassed to be stood in front of the three of them like this. ‘She’s with the nurse, Youngjo. She’ll be fine. They said that she has an infection. She’ll be okay.’ He says it in a reassuring voice, and he sees the moment where some sort of light returns to Youngjo’s dark, empty eyes.

‘This Pokémon Centre is so small,’ muses Seoho. ‘I booked a room for me and Geonhak while Geonhak snuck this one in through the back, but there won’t be room for all of us.’

‘Youngjo can sleep in here with me,’ Hwanwoong sighs.

All three of them protest at once, in equal levels of horror. ‘ _No!_ He’s dangerous!’ snaps Seoho.

‘We’re not leaving you alone with him,’ Geonhak shakes his head.

Youngjo looks perhaps the most disgusted of all. ‘I’m not staying in this place with any of you. I’m taking my Umbreon and getting the hell out of here.’

With his mind still fuzzy with disturbed sleep, Hwanwoong feels more combative than usual. ‘Well we can’t collect Raven until morning and they won’t hand her over to anyone but me. And Seoho, Geonhak, you don’t need to worry because he needs me to get his Pokémon back. So can everyone deal with that? I’m _tired_.’

Deal with it they do.

After much debate, Seoho and Geonhak shuffle away to their room, and Hwanwoong is left alone in the small space with Youngjo, who limps from wall to wall before sliding down against one. His hands touch to the clotted blood on his jeans and a low breath runs out from between his teeth.

Watching him out of the corner of his eye, Hwanwoong collects the supplies that he bought at the Mart and crosses over to him. Youngjo’s eyes turn wary, but he doesn’t slap Hwanwoong’s hands away when he crouches down and starts to unlace his boot. They’re caught in a moment of understanding, a silent one but understanding nonetheless. Growlithe watches from the bed with a look in his eyes that reminds Youngjo not to try anything.

‘This is poorly dressed,’ murmurs Hwanwoong as he pushes up the leg of Youngjo’s jeans and throws his boot aside. He learned some of the basics of first aid during his time at the vocational college. When he lifts away the blood-stained dressing, he finds that the wound from Growlithe’s teeth is impressively deep, an arc of punctures to the skin.

‘I was under time pressure,’ mutters Youngjo.

Up close, Hwanwoong has the chance to glance up at his face and make a better appraisal of him. He still looks too thin, his cheekbones pushed out in what could be a softer face, but there’s a glimmer than he could be very handsome. His lips are plush and naturally reddish but there’s a healed split to his lower lip that has left a fine dark mark. Hwanwoong finds himself wondering who hit him, but then he looks back down at the wound on his calf instead.

Youngjo winces when he sweeps an antiseptic over the surface, but Hwanwoong just tuts and places a clean dressing over the wound. ‘You really ought to see a nurse,’ he says as he binds it with gauze.

‘Not an option.’

‘Don’t Team Rocket have their own nurses?’ says Hwanwoong, and the question is only semi-sarcastic.

There is a lot to know about Team Rocket but not many people really know it all. From what Hwanwoong has read, they started out their movements in a small region, terrorising the local population with petty crime and sometimes worse, but before long they began to set their sights on Pokémon. They started strange experiments in laboratories and Pokémon Scientists started to disappear. Across the years, their activities moved overseas from region to region, until now it is said that there is a Team Rocket hideout in every metropolis in the world.

Hwanwoong doesn’t know if it’s true, but the thought makes him shiver.

‘Yes. At base. But I can’t go back there yet until I’ve completed my mission.’

‘What’s your mission?’

Youngjo laughs.

‘What? Stealing more Pokémon?’ Hwanwoong pulls a face. ‘Are you going to steal _my_ Pokémon?’

‘No.’

After that, Hwanwoong sits down cross-legged on the floor and rubs his eyes with his hands. Tiredness is a grey cloud on his mind and his eyes sting. It is not only the late hour but the thought of all that has happened since his mom left him in Busan. This has not been the start to his journey that he anticipated. With a heavy sigh, he stands and walks back to the bed. ‘You should get some sleep,’ he says to Youngjo, ‘I’ll collect Raven in the morning.’

Youngjo nods and closes his eyes as he rests his head back against the wall.

‘In the _bed_ ,’ says Hwanwoong with an air of frustration.

At that, Youngjo’s eyes shoot back open and he splutters a laugh. ‘You can’t be serious?’

‘We’ll top and tail,’ shrugs Hwanwoong. ‘You’re here, you might as well get some proper rest. I don’t know how often you get to sleep in a real bed.’

For a moment, Youngjo looks like he’ll refuse him, but then he stands and limps to the bed, like this is an offer that he cannot turn down. Maybe it’s been a very long time since he last slept on a mattress. Hwanwoong climbs under the blankets on one side of the narrow bed and flops his head back against the pillow. He feels exposed in his pyjamas, so he pulls the blanket all the way up to his chin. Youngjo, still fully clothed, lays down on top of the covers and stares up at the ceiling, apparently unperturbed by Hwanwoong’s presence. Hwanwoong hardly believes that he’ll be able to sleep like that, but he’s too tired to care.

He lets his eyes fall shut and exhales a wobbly breath.

Youngjo won’t hurt him so long as he needs him to collect Raven for him.

Still, it is only thanks to his exhaustion that he begins to drift into sleep, and the shifting of the small bed whenever Youngjo moves becomes the rocking of a water in the strange dream that he has, chasing something across the water to a distant island.

~

Hwanwoong goes down to the nurse in the early morning after finally giving in to Youngjo’s non-stop demands since dawn. He thinks it best to not make him too angry, because he suspects that any Team Rocket agent could become unpredictable. When the Umbreon is placed on the counter in front of him, she makes a happy sound and pushes her head into the cup of Hwanwoong’s hand. He smiles and scratches behind her large, soft ears. They fold backwards as he runs the velvety fur through his fingers.

‘Our medicine was able to clear up the infection quickly, but next time you must get her to the Pokémon Centre before it gets so bad,’ says Nurse Joy. ‘You must have been on your journey for a long time to have such a powerful Pokémon. You ought to know better by now.’

Hwanwoong looks at her in surprise but then reminds himself to nod. By now, Raven is licking his hand. She seems to like him.

He wonders, as he carries her back up to the bedroom, quite how powerful she is. The nurses see many Pokémon, so he thinks that she must be very strong for her to mention it. For an Umbreon, she’s perhaps a little on the small side but he’s only seen them on the televised championships before so it is hard to compare. Youngjo must be a couple of years older than him, and if he started his journey young then he could have a lot of experience by now. Not for the first time, Hwanwoong is caught in thoughts of where this Umbreon came from.

If she was a stolen Pokémon, then she would not be so calm around him, but rather fearful of strangers. As if to confirm his suspicions, she nudges her nose up at his chin to nestle her head against his neck. A laugh breaks from Hwanwoong’s lips, and he finds himself sad at the thought of leaving her.

‘Raven!’ exhales Youngjo as soon as Hwanwoong opens the door to their shared room. He looks better, even after the few hours of sleep, and while he’s still limping, his Pokémon seems to bring a bounce back into his step. He takes her into his arms and holds her against his black shirt. She nuzzles at his chest and kneads her paws against the material the same way that a cat Pokémon might. ‘Thank you,’ says Youngjo with an honest look in his eyes.

‘You should go,’ Hwanwoong tells him.

There’s a moment in which Youngjo meets his eyes and looks almost disappointed. ‘I - ’

‘You’re with Team Rocket, and now that your Pokémon is safe there’s no excuse for me not to call the police. And I’m sure Seoho and Geonhak will be thinking the same thing. So you should go now. And I’ll… try to pretend it never happened.’ It takes a lot of effort for him to say it, and some of the words get caught in his chest, but he knows that it is for the best. Associating with Team Rocket is dangerous as well as immoral, and Hwanwoong is still going round and around in his head wondering if he has done the right thing.

Youngjo lowers Raven down to the floor. She hops away and begins to play a game with Hwanwoong’s Growlithe, dropping down in a hunting position before pouncing on him as he rolls onto his back. ‘Thank you, for what you did for me.’

‘I didn’t do it for you. I did it for your Pokémon.’

Youngjo nods. ‘I won’t forget this. I’m in your debt, now.’

‘I don’t want any favours from you,’ says Hwanwoong, and it’s true. He doesn’t intend to get embroiled with anything to do with Team Rocket ever again. This strange experience has been enough.

‘Well you don’t know when you might need one.’

Hwanwoong does not think that he’ll ever find himself in need of a Team Rocket agent, but he nods nonetheless. ‘Okay.’

It seems as if Youngjo holds his gaze for a little too long, like he is reluctant to tear it away, but eventually he looks back around the room and picks up his leather jacket. ‘Come on, Raven,’ he says, and she looks back with what Hwanwoong is sure is a disappointed expression in those gleaming ruby eyes as her game is interrupted. However, she follows Youngjo without question when he opens the door. ‘I’ll sneak out the back,’ says Youngjo, ‘the same way that your bodyguards smuggled me in.’

‘They’re not my - ’ Hwanwoong starts, but then he sighs.

Youngjo gives him a small smile. The expression makes his face look so different that it almost knocks Hwanwoong over. A glint of silver shines in the flash of his eyes, and his hollow cheeks fill out with soft shape. He looks younger, less wearied, and almost like any other guy his age. ‘See you around, Hwanwoong.’

‘See you, Youngjo,’ he says, even though he isn’t sure if he will.

Once he is gone, the room seems oddly empty.

Seoho and Geonhak are likely to sleep in late after travelling through the night with the detained Youngjo, so Hwanwoong wonders whether he ought to try and get some more sleep too. When he lies back down on the bed though, his mind is moving a mile a minute, and Growlithe starts to paw at him for breakfast, and there is no chance that he’s going to get any sleep.

_Did I do the right thing?_

_Will I get into trouble if someone finds out?_

Questions whirl in his brain. A horrible image rolls across his mind of his mom’s expression if he was frogmarched back to the village by the police, everyone hearing the rumours of how he helped Team Rocket. He tries to shake the image away and rubs his eyes like that will help. Then he takes out his hearing aids, but that doesn’t dim the noise in his brain. Anxiety catches hold of him and he buries his face in Growlithe’s fur. The Pokémon stops fussing, as if able to tell that he needs him just to be there for a minute.

‘I think I screwed up,’ he says into the empty room.

Growlithe rests his chin down on his shoulder and his hot breath is a reminder that Hwanwoong isn’t alone. He’s never alone. And down the hall, Seoho and Geonhak will soon be stirring. Friends. Real friends, who took on a Team Rocket agent just to try to find him. 

He must have fallen asleep, because he’s roused again by Seoho and Geonhak, who bustle into his room around the mid-morning. Skitty arrives first, hopping from Seoho’s shoulder onto the bed and pawing Hwanwoong awake. Geonhak’s Marill, too, is out of her Poké Ball and padding happily around the room. When Hwanwoong wakes up, for a second he does not remember what has happened or why he is here. When his anxiety spikes again, though, it is soon settled by the beaming smile on Seoho’s face.

‘He’s gone already?’

Hwanwoong has to pick some of the words up from his lips, but he nods. ‘Early,’ he says, keeping monosyllabic because despite knowing that there’s no reason to worry about such a thing, he’s still somewhat self-conscious about his voice when he doesn’t have his hearing aids in.

‘Excellent,’ Seoho grins. ‘I was worried we wouldn’t be able to get rid of him.’

‘Do you think we should call the police?’ asks Geonhak as Hwanwoong puts his aids in place.

Hwanwoong is relieved to hear him ask the same question, if only because it reminds him once again that he isn’t alone. ‘I – I don’t know.’

‘I vote no,’ says Seoho, and they both look to him in surprise. Of all of them, Hwanwoong would have thought that Seoho would be the most fiery. He shrugs under their gaze. ‘Team Rocket are dangerous, and we got away without being harmed this time. We were lucky. I think we should leave it alone. Don’t poke the sleeping Charizard, you know.’

‘I think I agree,’ nods Geonhak. ‘There’s no reason for us to get more involved with them than we already are. I think it’s for the best if we just move on.’

‘Agreed?’ checks Seoho with a glance at Hwanwoong.

‘Agreed,’ he nods.

‘Good,’ Seoho smiles. ‘Then I think we should get going. This place gives me the heebie jeebies now. And this town is so small that I’m sure we’re not going to find anything interesting here. I have some breakfast bars and Pokibble in my bag, so we can eat as we ride. Were you able to catch any Pokémon in the National Park, before you ran into Youngjo?’

‘No,’ Hwanwoong sighs. ‘And I need to train my Magnemite.’

‘Well we can join the river route a couple of miles west through the forest, and you’ll be able to train up Magnemite easily fighting some of the water Pokémon there,’ says Geonhak, pulling out his map. ‘I think we should take that route. It will take us halfway to Daegu and there are plenty of towns along the river where we can stay for the night.’

They pack up in minutes, and Hwanwoong can’t help but think that he’ll be glad to see the back of this small town too. He pulls on his maroon sneakers and a thick red hoodie, because even in spring he has realised that it gets cool in the woods under the shelter of the trees. As they slip downstairs to the lobby, they are interrupted by a stranger, who has come out of another of the few rooms.

He’s younger than Hwanwoong, but behind him walks an intimidating looking Raichu. ‘Excuse me?’ he calls, and Seoho turns around with his usual plastered grin. This time, it looks less genuine than usual. There is an air that the three of them feel _guilty_ , and Hwanwoong realises that this is the first time in his life that he’s had a secret to keep. ‘I’m Dongju,’ the boy says and he bows low. His Raichu imitates.

Hwanwoong has seen plenty of Pikachu in his time, as they were popular amongst the kids in his village, but it’s less common to see a Raichu, and they are almost never pictured in the wild. It is a very powerful Pokémon; Hwanwoong has watched them on the television during the National and even World Championships. One Thunderbolt move can wipe out even the strongest of opponents. The lightning bolt tail swishes as the Raichu watches them, and right before his eyes yellow sparks flicker on its cheeks.

‘I’m Seoho. This is Geonhak, and Hwanwoong,’ Seoho introduces them all. It strikes Hwanwoong that he seems to be the spokesperson of their little gang.

‘I saw that you were leaving and I was wondering where you’re heading?’ asks Dongju. ‘Only I’m going north and I – I’m a bit nervous about travelling by myself. I usually travel with my brother but he had to go home for a while.’

The three of them look at each other with shifty expressions and Hwanwoong feels more than ever like they’ve done something devious. ‘We’re heading to Daegu,’ says Geonhak, though, with a friendly smile.

‘Me too!’ beams Dongju. He’s got a young, charming face, with bright eyes and soft features. His hair is bleached and dyed burnt orange. ‘Are you heading there for the tournament?’

‘What tournament?’ asks Hwanwoong curiously.

‘You haven’t heard?’ A look of excitement crosses Dongju’s face. ‘There’s a big tournament behind held in Daegu, but only trainers who haven’t competed at a championship before are eligible to compete. There’s a massive prize and loads of young trainers are heading to the city to try their luck. Raichu and I have been training hard to get ready. I think we have a real shot!’

‘Well I have no hope,’ Hwanwoong sighs. ‘I only just started out. The two of you could join, though,’ he suggests to Seoho and Geonhak. Seoho’s eyes are already gleaming with a thirst for competition.

‘I’m in,’ grins Seoho, and Geonhak nods too.

‘So I can come with you guys?’ Dongju exhales in relief. He definitely looks young. Immediately Hwanwoong thinks that he _shouldn’t_ be travelling alone and he wonders if this is how Seoho and Geonhak felt when they found _him_ alone in the Pokémon Centre. It all makes sense.

‘Of course,’ says Geonhak with his characteristic gentle smile. ‘We scoop up all strays.’

~

As soon as he leaves the small town, Youngjo heads into the woods. The path north is swathed in dense trees and mountainous topography. It would be easier to travel via the towns, but his profile has grown too noticeable in the last few weeks and if Yeo Hwanwoong and his friends decide to call the police after all then his best chance of disappearing is to stay off the beaten track. He keeps Raven in her Poké Ball, because there is no reason for her to tire herself out when she ought to be resting. It is lonely, though, walking through the woods with no one at his side.

The situation in Busan City meant that he missed his last check-in, but he doesn’t withdraw his receiver when it buzzes in his jacket pocket. If someone wants to find him, then they can come looking for him themselves. His GPS tracker is active.

He trudges through the woods, still limping a little on his bad leg. It aches, and it reminds him of Hwanwoong with every step. He thinks that he likes Yeo Hwanwoong, and Youngjo does not like many people at all.

Hwanwoong is gentle and innocent, and Youngjo thinks that those are remarkable traits to have, especially by his age. There’s a friendliness in his eyes and openness around him that extends from his words to his heart. He cares and that’s sweet; in Youngjo’s world, one cannot afford to care.

From somewhere in the distance, a hum of sound emerges through the trees, and Youngjo stops dead. The noise is low and whirring and distinctly mechanical. Gradually, the volume increases, and Youngjo’s eyes are drawn down as dust begins to kick up from the ground and the leaves on the surrounding trees rustle and shake. Louder, and louder, and louder, and he throws an arm across his face as the sound becomes deafening and there is a crunch of broken branches.

They fall around him a second after he covered his eyes and he turns away, using his free hand to protect one of his ears as the sound grinds and hammers at his ear-drums. Overhead, a flock of Pidgey burst from the treetops and take flight to avoid the destruction. A twister of dust and debris whips around Youngjo’s body and just when he thinks that his ear drums will burst and his lungs will collapse under the weight of dust, the vehicle stills.

For a minute, he does not move his arms, until the air settles. When he looks around, light is streaming down from the destroyed canopy overhead, branches that are decades old hanging like broken limbs, and in front of him there is a light aircraft with a mean rotor blade in silver steel. The blood red R of the Rocket logo is printed across the grey body. It is one of their more advanced aircraft, which means that the pilot will be someone of high rank. Youngjo sighs.

The flat metal door slides open on metal tracks, and a set of delicate steps unfold down to the forest floor.

‘Youngjo!’ the familiar voice snaps, and Youngjo sighs again before looking up to meet his eyes.

Agent Sun stalks down the steps, followed by a slinking violet Purrloin. Youngjo cannot stand the man or his Pokémon, which hisses whenever it sees his Umbreon. Sun’s eyes are dull and empty, nothing like his name, and there is a scrunched look about his nose as if he is always smelling something unpleasant. He’s clothed in the white shirt, grey suit and maroon tie of Team Rocket’s higher ranking agents.

‘You missed your check-in again.’ He walks all the way over to Youngjo and stands aggressively close until there are only inches between their faces. He is a little taller than Youngjo and broader, too, but by frame rather than brawn.

‘I was indisposed,’ he says, and he takes care not to look away or take a step back.

‘Or you failed on your quota again.’ Sun reaches out and pulls back one side of Youngjo’s jacket in search of Poké Balls, and a sneer breaks onto his face when he sees none. ‘I thought as much.’

‘I’ve been busy. Officer Jennie is on my tail.’

‘Then get rid of her!’

‘As if it’s that easy,’ laughs Youngjo. ‘She’s not some local pen-pusher. She’s the head of a special task force.’

‘God, you’re weak. Like a child who can’t be left to take care of himself. Perhaps we need to assign you a partner again until you can manage yourself like an adult.’

Anger begins to rise up in Youngjo’s chest. ‘First you tell me to get to Daegu to find the new Elixir, and now you’re telling me I’m not giving you enough Pokémon. Which do you want? Because I can’t be in two places, doing two things at once.’

He pays for answering back, as Agent Sun slaps him hard across the face. The sting is delayed for a second, so the sound hits his ears first, and his face is pushed to the side with a wince. Only for a moment does he allow himself to work his jaw, and then he looks back up at Sun again. Hot red spreads across his cheek, but his eyes remain cold. He knows better than to strike Sun back, because the punishment for lashing out at a senior agent, both in age and rank, would be severe.

‘You didn’t answer my question,’ he says instead, through gritted teeth. ‘Do you want me to go to Daegu, or do you want me to mess around stealing Pokémon like a low-level grunt?’

‘Be careful how you speak to me or I’ll put you right back in that rank where you belong,’ snaps Sun. ‘You don’t deserve that Umbreon of yours.’

That hurts more than the slap. Youngjo straightens and tilts his chin up, but the way that his throat moves when he swallows is visible. ‘So are we going to Daegu or not?’

Agent Sun grabs him by the scruff of the neck and shoves him towards the aircraft without answer.

_At least it will cut the journey time._

Youngjo takes care not to visibly limp, because he does not want to hear how his handler will react if he finds out that he’s got himself injured as well. He keeps upright and maintains a flat, neutral expression that he hopes will match the awkward silence for their journey north.

As he ducks to climb into the aircraft and his leg gives a horrible twinge, he is reminded of Hwanwoong again. And his infuriatingly committed friends, Seoho and Geonhak. By now, they will be on their way again, seeking out adventure.

Youngjo wonders how it would be to set out on a journey like theirs, instead of being doomed to the inescapable path that was laid out in front of him so many years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first chapter ^-^ I really did not expect many people to read this fic so it made me so happy <3 I love you!
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> It’s me back again ^-^ with chapter 3! Thank you so much for your comments on the last chapter honestly I’m so happy that there are people reading and enjoying the fic <3  
> Vi x

The journey north begins along the wide river that winds its way almost all the way to Daegu City. Under the morning sun, light glints silver from the rushing water and every few seconds, tiny Barboach burst from the surface in leaps that cover inches of air. All along the river’s edge sit fishermen, dressed in the characteristic burgundy red of the Fishing Society. Their rods line the bank, and they chat as they sit back casually and share canned drinks.

In the guide that Hwanwoong took from the Pokémon Centre, he reads that the river is prime habitat for fish Pokémon. Goldeen, Magikarp, Remoraid, Feebas and Finneon, and even rarer Pokémon where the water is deeper, are all listed on the potential sightings. These experienced fishermen will be looking for something very rare, like the huge Gyarados that could lurk at the very depths, but Hwanwoong hopes to find something far more manageable to join his team.

Geonhak leads the way, as his Marill steams ahead through the water. Her large ears crest the channel of water, and Hwanwoong can always catch sight of her by the round blue tail that stands out above the surface. Though she seems in her element, she always stops to wait for them to catch up before darting away through the water again. Growlithe and Dongju’s Raichu stay further back, well away from the riverbank, and pad away in a rush whether water is splashed their way.

Skitty is not so sure either, and stays firmly on Seoho’s shoulder. Hwanwoong gets the impression that she’s a little of a spoiled cat. Her serene smile never wavers, but she can become quite petulant if Seoho does not keep up a strict schedule of passing up treats onto his shoulder, and she starts nipping at his ear. Hwanwoong watches as she starts to push insistently at the side of his head, and then he glances at Dongju and they both stifle a laugh.

‘How long have you been training your Raichu?’ asks Hwanwoong to cover his laughter. Ever since they started their trek, he’s found Dongju rather easy to talk to, perhaps because he is younger and therefore does not seem so intimidating.

‘A really long time!’ grins Dongju. ‘I started my Pokémon journey when I was fourteen. Raichu evolved last year.’

‘Fourteen,’ exhales Hwanwoong. ‘Wow. Even if I hadn’t been sick, my mom probably wouldn’t have let me travel by myself when I was that young.’

‘Well I have my twin brother,’ shrugs Dongju. ‘But Dongmyeong had to go home to help my dad out with some work for a while and I wanted to go to Daegu. It won’t take you long to catch up with everyone else, hyung,’ he adds in a reassuring voice, ‘I know that it might seem like everyone has a big head-start but when you’re younger you’re only allowed to travel on pre-arranged routes anyway. There’s only so much of the Pokédex that you can fill. Whereas once you’re grown up you can visit the mountains and the islands and go out into the marshes.’

‘I was most nervous about making friends,’ says Hwanwoong with a soft laugh.

Dongju bumps his shoulder against his. ‘It’s easy. Look, you’ve already picked up plenty of us.’

Hwanwoong thinks of his new friends, and then thinks of Youngjo, the other trainer with whom he has spent the most time since setting out from Busan. Can Youngjo even be called a trainer? He thinks so. Where is Youngjo now? Where did he go after sneaking out of the Pokémon Centre? Hwanwoong thinks of his split lip and starts to worry. He thinks of how Youngjo said that no one could _choose_ to be a part of Team Rocket. What if he’s in danger? What if they’re threatening him somehow?

No one deserves to live in fear, no matter what path of life they’re on. Hwanwoong has only been hit once in his life, when a bully at school tried to steal his trading cards and Hwanwoong took it upon himself to stand up to him. He remembers how it hurt, though, and the hot burn as blood trickled down his nose and into his mouth. Wherever Youngjo is, he hopes that he’s safe, regardless of what emblem he might wear.

‘Hwanwoong?’ Dongju gives his arm a shake, and Hwanwoong is jerked from his thoughts back to the present moment.

His eyes follow where the others are looking. They’ve reached an area of shallow water, away from the fisherman. Down on the bank, there is a Poliwag, sat back as if sunning itself. Hwanwoong’s fingers itch to his belt for a Poké Ball, but the others saw it first, so he stops himself.

‘Go on,’ says Geonhak, ‘it’s for you.’

A lump catches in Hwanwoong’s throat. ‘Really?’

‘Go for it.’

‘D-do you think I should weaken it first?’ he asks. Growlithe won’t be strong against a water-type Pokémon, but the Magnemite resting in its Poké Ball would be. Then, though, he would risk making the Pokémon faint and he doesn’t want to have to speed up their journey to find the nearest Pokémon Centre.

‘No, it looks nice and relaxed,’ whispers Seoho. Skitty has stopped her chewing of his ear and is watching the Poliwag intently. ‘Just try sneaking up. You can use a Great Ball if you want to be certain of a catch.’

‘I don’t have any,’ says Hwanwoong.

‘Here,’ Dongju fumbles in his oversized backpack and hands him a small blue ball.

‘Thank you,’ he whispers, unable to believe that the others are looking out for him like this.

He creeps down to the river’s edge. It’s always difficult to gauge how much noise he’s making because his hearing can’t pick up on the quiet shuffle of grass or the disturbance of twigs underfoot, but he hopes that he’s sufficiently quiet. The Poliwag is on its round back, small blue feet kicking in the air happily. The blue and white tail swishes across the wet earth and Hwanwoong thinks that the playful Pokémon would be a perfect friend for Growlithe and Magnemite.

His heart jumps to his mouth and his fingers sweat on the Great Ball. If he misses, then it might end up in the water and he doesn’t want to lose the gift from Dongju. The soles of his basketball shoes skid on the mud and he catches an arm out on the bank just to stop _himself_ falling in the water, and then he takes a deep breath before throwing the ball. It spins through the air at a faster pace than a normal Poké Ball and red markings blur with the blue as it spirals and then falls.

A burst of red glow and the Poliwag is caught.

Then the ball falls.

Hwanwoong lunges forward to catch it and his whole body hits the water. For a second, he’s plunged under the surface, and he panics as water engulfs his face. Swimming is not a skill that he ever thought to work on. He kicks out in alarm and then his head breaks the surface. Sucking in lungful’s of air, he tries to grab onto something with his free hand, but he already seems to have travelled from the bank. As he swivels around he sees that Seoho is halfway down to the water.

Marill, though, arrives first. She scoops up under his arms and stays close to his body like a tiny float. Though she’s too small to support his whole weight, combined with his kicking feet she helps him to stay afloat. The current is strong, and they’re pulled a little downstream. Seoho is shouting something but Hwanwoong can’t make it out because his hearing aids are ringing.

The water is still cool in spring, and it soaks through his clothes to make them heavy as bricks. Marill tries to swim upstream but is too small to make headway with his weight all around her. Just when Hwanwoong panics that they’ll be carried all the way downstream, the water parts beneath him.

Something is rising up from the depths.

Something _big_.

The fear of drowning pales in comparison to the fear of being eaten by a giant Gyarados.

Sheets of water spill from both sides of the monolith, and Hwanwoong has to grab onto the slippery surface as he’s lifted all the way from the water. He holds tight to Marill, ready to protect her if necessary, and wraps an arm around the wide neck of the Pokémon beneath him as water crashes down back to the river.

Then, as soon as the earthquake began, things still. Hwanwoong has squeezed his eyes shut, but he opens one a crack. He’s never been on a boat, but he imagines that it feels a lot like this – a sort of uneven ground beneath him that sways with his weight. The Pokémon is blue, but not the rich royal blue of a Gyarados, rather an icy blue with a sheen of glitter to the hide. Hwanwoong’s legs are thrown either side of a massive grey shell.

The Pokémon turns and starts to swim upstream with ease, four vast flippers cleaving through the water. Unlike Marill’s excitement earlier, this Pokémon seems completely serene. Such is its size that it seems to fill half of the width of the river with its span, and when it crosses to the bank where Hwanwoong’s friends are frantically waiting, it lays down its neck to roll him off onto the ground with a gentle thud.

Hwanwoong coughs up water, and Seoho pounds him on the back (a little too hard) if only from worry. They’re all talking but the sound blurs into one murmur that he can’t make out because he’s distracted by the shrill ring of his hearing aids. The sound in his left ear is so piercing that it cuts like a lightning bolt across his head and he has to rip the aid out. He drops it on the floor, his other hand still cradling his precious Poliwag, and then takes out the other, too.

Dongju is at his side, talking to him. He picks up stray words but nothing to put a sentence together.

Then, he’s bundled over as Growlithe tackles him and starts to lick at his face. The blinding yellow sun fills his vision until Seoho’s head sticks over it and he says. ‘Hwanwoong? Are you okay?’ It’s clear on his lips.

‘Fine,’ he coughs.

He tries to sit up – it is difficult when Growlithe is climbing all over him – and a glance back at the riverbank shows him a stranger, speaking to Geonhak. He’s tall, slightly gangly, with blue streaks dyed in amongst light brown hair. Dressed only in a t-shirt and shorts despite the cool spring breeze, a colourful array of Poké Balls are visible on his belt. One hand pats the neck of Hwanwoong’s saviour, and now as he blinks water out of his eyes, he sees that the Pokémon is a Lapras.

His breath catches. He has never seen a Pokémon so huge and magnificent right before his eyes.

Hwanwoong crawls to his abandoned backpack and places his Poliwag next to the ball containing his Magnemite where it will be safe. He takes out the golden ball containing his spare hearing aids and rues miserably the loss of his main pair. These do not fit as well, and he won’t be able to get the others repaired until they next reach a city. Sighing, he pushes his wet hair from his face and accepts Dongju’s help in pulling off his sopping jacket.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ asks Dongju.

Hwanwoong fiddles with his right aid, irritated by the way it rubs his concha. ‘I – I’m okay. I’m fine.’

‘We ought to attach a leash to you,’ sniffs Seoho. ‘You’re like a Totodile, always wandering off into danger.’

‘Who…?’ starts Hwanwoong, eyes on the stranger beside the beautiful Lapras.

As if summoned by his question, Geonhak crosses back over with the man, who throws himself into a theatrical low bow. ‘Lee Keonhee!’ he announces. ‘Water Pokémon trainer. It seems you met my Lapras!’

Hwanwoong swallows nervously and tries to think what his mom would tell him to say. _Remember your manners_. ‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘My name is Hwanwoong. I thought we were doomed for a moment there!’

Keonhee slaps a hearty hand down on his shoulder. Though his height gives him the impression of a spindle-like frame, in reality Hwanwoong notices that he’s quite brawny in muscle. His shoulders are broad, like he swims a lot. ‘These waters can be quite unpredictable! People often don’t realise that rivers can be more dangerous than the sea. I bring my Pokémon down here to train against the strong currents. You should be more careful if you aren’t good in the water.’ As he talks, Hwanwoong notices that his mouth is very animated. If he were to learn his patterns then he thinks they’d be hard to keep track of, ever-changing.

‘I was catching a Poliwag,’ he says, in a moment of confidence. He’s proud to have caught two new Pokémon already, so early on his journey.

Keonhee grins and taps a blue and white ball at his belt. ‘You can introduce it to my Poliwrath later.’

‘You have a - ’ Hwanwoong starts, but Seoho interrupts.

‘We’re headed north to Daegu. Anywhere you think we should visit along the river route?’

Keonhee muses and then grins. ‘You can come with me to the nearby Turtle Town. They call it that because of all the wild Squirtle,’ he adds with a wink at Hwanwoong. ‘I just trekked down from there. It’s only about an hour’s walk back upriver. Besides, you can get yourself dry before you catch a chill. There’s a great Poké Bar and the people are awesome. _Very_ welcoming to passing trainers. You in?’

They all nod.

Hwanwoong is still dripping wet and starting to shiver. What Keonhee said about catching a chill plays on his mind, because he’s more susceptible to falling sick than most people. Worried, he takes off his wet jacket and rings out some of the water. Sensing his anxiety, Growlithe tucks close around his ankles and breathes hot air onto his wet jeans.

When they start to walk again, Keonhee drops back to walk in step with him. He seems to have taken quite an interest. ‘So I reckon you and your friends are headed to Daegu for the tournament, right?’

‘Yes,’ nods Hwanwoong. ‘Well sort of. I’m not exactly ready for a competition and Geonhak wants to challenge the gym in the city. But Dongju wants to compete. I think that he stands a good chance with his Raichu. Are _you_ going to come to Daegu to join in?’

Keonhee laughs. ‘My ship has sailed, I’m afraid. You have to be a first-timer. I’ve already competed at many competitions.’

‘Really?’ Hwanwoong gasps. ‘You have to tell me all about it. I watch every league on the television. How difficult is it competing with only one type of Pokémon?’

Keonhee looks up at the clear blue sky in thought. ‘Well it’s not so important, type. People think it is, but what it really comes down to is skill and experience. It can be hard to win a battle against an electric-type Pokémon, but if my Pokémon is better trained, more experienced, and more powerful, then I can still win the battle. That’s why you mustn’t just concentrate on catching lots of different Pokémon. That’s the mistake trainers make. You _must_ focus on training up your first team to be as strong as they can be.’

As they walk, Hwanwoong nods. He jogs a little to keep warm because his hands are shaking as the water soaks all the way through to his bones. Luckily, the spring sun is reaching higher in the sky and beginning to dry out the shoulders of his shirt. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go to a competition. I started my journey too late.’

‘Eh, you’ll catch up fast!’ Keonhee is loud, and Hwanwoong likes loud. ‘Much like type, time isn’t that important. It’s how you train that matters. Train smart. Put yourself out of your comfort zone. Build trust with your Pokémon. I can already see how much that Growlithe loves you. Having a Pokémon who would fight to the ends of the earth with you is more important than catching a rare powerful Pokémon in the wild.’

They walk in silence for a while, after that.

Hwanwoong contemplates his words, and wonders if he’ll ever even have the courage to take on a battle with another trainer, let alone a championship like the Pokémon League.

~

The town named Turtle Town holds true to its name. Not only are there wild Squirtle roaming every inch of the small collection of buildings, but there are emblems of the Pokémon _everywhere_. The bar that Keonhee mentioned is built from timber, and a huge wooden Squirtle is carved over the entrance. As soon as they near the centre of the town, it becomes apparent why Keonhee likes it here: he seems to be some kind of local celebrity.

‘He’s got his own fan club,’ mutters Seoho, with an air of suspicion as several kids start to follow Keonhee excitedly.

‘Well he’s got some very rare Pokémon,’ says Dongju. ‘I don’t even know where you’d be able to catch a Lapras unless you travelled to Jeju. I bet that’s where he found it, and even then you’re going to be competing against a _lot_ of strong water Pokémon trainers to be the one to catch it.’

‘He has a Poliwrath too,’ supplies Hwanwoong, watching Keonhee’s back as he leads the way and throws open the bar doors.

The bar is quite dark, but not in the unpleasant way. It’s only because the lighting is natural through the small square windows, and some of the glow comes from a Charmander sat at one of the stools across from his trainer. In one corner, there are kids eating burgers with their parents in a small booth of red leather seats, while up near the bar there are two older men with long white beards drinking large cups of beer and exchanging loud stories about Pokémon battles.

Hwanwoong thinks he likes the place.

As they take seats around a table, Keonhee pulls Hwanwoong aside and ushers him to a bathroom where he can change into his dry clothes. By the time that he re-emerges, he realises how thirsty he is, so he shuffles to the bar to get himself a soda with his meagre remaining budget for the week.

‘You’re with Lee Keonhee?’ the barman smiles. ‘For you, no charge.’

Hwanwoong looks at him in surprise, and then bows in gratitude as he collects his money back from the counter. ‘How come everyone around here knows Keonhee? He seems to be really popular.’

‘He helped us out with Team Rocket! Took on two of their agents when they were messing with the town. You should’ve seen him.’

‘When?’ asks Hwanwoong, and even though he knows that the stranger can’t read his mind, he immediately feels guilty that his first thought is of Youngjo. He cannot seem to shake the man from his head. What if he passed by this way already?

‘’bout a week ago,’ he answers.

Hwanwoong’s heart falls. It shouldn’t, but it does. ‘Oh. That’s really impressive that he took on two agents by himself.’

‘He’s got a powerful set of Pokémon, Keonhee. His papa used to visit this town before Keonhee was born, and he was one of the finest fishermen I ever knew. Keonhee never pays in this town.’

‘Thank you,’ smiles Hwanwoong and he heads back to the table where the others have begun sharing out food. He slides down onto a bench and allows Growlithe to jump up into his lap.

‘Are you okay, Hwanwoong?’ asks Geonhak in a gentle voice. ‘I know that everyone’s been distracted meeting Keonhee, but it must have been scary falling into the river.’

He shrugs, embarrassed at the attention. Whenever someone is completely focussed on him, it makes him nervous, because he has spent an awful lot of his life doing his best to fade into the background. ‘Yes, yes of course. I’m alright. I mean it was scary, but I’m okay.’

Geonhak puts an arm around his shoulder and gives him a small squeeze. ‘We were all worried. Seoho was going to dive in after you.’

‘I don’t think I would’ve been able to stay above the water without Marill,’ he says.

‘She’s a good girl,’ laughs Geonhak. ‘She would’ve got you to the bank eventually, I’m sure. Just maybe not as quick as Keonhee’s Lapras.’

Hwanwoong nods and picks at some fries in a bowl at the centre of the table. ‘I think Seoho was right. You two need to get a leash for me. I keep wandering into trouble.’

‘It’s your first time being out on your own. Seoho’s only playing. So what if you’re a Totodile? You’re our little Totodile.’

At that, he feels a fuzzy sensation in his tummy. Finding friends like this is more than he imagined he’d ever achieve on his journey.

‘So are you going to come with us to Daegu?’ asks Dongju with a smirk at Keonhee.

‘No, no,’ laughs Keonhee. ‘I’ve got training to do down here. And I need to keep an eye out in case Team Rocket come back to mess around. But I’m sure I’ll see all of you again soon. I feel like we’re destined to meet again.’

If destiny is a red thread that ties people together, then Hwanwoong is sure that he’ll meet Youngjo again, too. The boy that won’t leave his mind. Where is he now? Is fate taking him to Daegu too? If so then what awaits them there, and will it be dangerous? If destiny _does_ tie people together then is Hwanwoong putting his friends at risk by dragging them with him towards Team Rocket?

He shovels down fries, and tries not to think about it.

~

Night swathes the street like a cloak; Youngjo feels as if he’s a small Pokémon engulfed in the wings of a raven, the feathers so tightly packed that no light can break through. This area has an air of danger, but no one approaches him; in fact, the few people who pass by hardly seem to notice that he’s there. He has always had a remarkable ability to blend into the night.

And tonight, he is on an important mission.

He flattens his back against the wet brick wall. A spring shower has begun, the heavens above opening their trapdoors to spill a week’s rain down upon him. His Umbreon circles around his feet but she is even more of a shadow in the night than he is, her footsteps silent, like she does not disturb the water below her at all. Youngjo does, and he has to keep his steps as slow as he can to get around to the side of the building without being noticed.

When he reaches the innocuous chain-link fence that stands between himself and where he needs to be, he swings the bag from his back and pulls out a pair of heavy, mean-looking bolt-cutters. The laboratory is not well-protected, because it is a building of science rather than a building of defence. Only the elites know what is inside, and the message has been passed down to Youngjo. He understands why they would not want to draw attention to the nondescript building.

It stands several storeys high, and all of the windows have the shutters closed, but light still gleams in narrow sheaths through some of the blinds. Youngjo winces as the bolt-cutters snap at the metal link. Raven can slink through the gap first, before Youngjo cuts further and rolls the chain-link back far enough to slip through himself. The rain covers the worst of the noise.

Youngjo has been doing jobs like this since he was dragged out of his home at the age of sixteen. It rained that night, too. Still, though, the nerves cloud every part of him, from his anxious mind to his unsteady hands. He does not think that it ever gets any easier. Fear tastes of iron in his mouth. If the police get a hold of him, then he’ll face serious jail time for his collusion with Team Rocket. If he fails, then the punishment from his superiors will probably be worse.

He crosses the small yard, dodging abandoned steelwork and downed tools from a building project that has been abandoned long ago, and finds the dark metal panel on the ground against the brick wall that he is looking for. Every door to the building has keycode entry, but he has it on good authority that he can enter through the basement. He heaves up the door by the small wiry handle and finds that it is as heavy as a manhole cover. Rust crusts the join between the door and the frame, and when he throws his whole weight into dragging it up, his wounded leg gives a sharp spasm of protest.

He gasps and falls back.

For a moment his eyes cast up to the sky and he winces as rain water pummels into them. Blinking rapidly, he grabs at the handle again. He must get through. Raven pads nervously around him. Every second that they waste above ground is a second in which they might be seen.

With a furious grunt he heaves at the handle again, and the metal gives a whine of protest before clanging open.

Youngjo is thrown back again with the weight, and he freezes, praying that anyone who heard the echo will have mistaken it for a clap of thunder from the spring storm. Youngjo’s hands scrape on the wet gravel and he feels something cut his palm but he doesn’t have time to waste on a wound.

‘Return,’ he murmurs, drawing Raven back into her Poké Ball. He does not want to risk her getting hurt down in the basement.

He finds a grip on the rusted ladder that leads down into the basement, and he has to lean his head forwards to carry the whole weight of the door on his shoulders in order to lower it down behind him. In a second, the scraps of light from the street above are extinguished, and Youngjo is plunged into total darkness.

Fear again.

Now he recognises the taste; it’s like blood.

Youngjo does not like the dark.

He does not like the light either, when you are shown for exactly what you are. Sometimes he has nightmares where he is cast under a huge spotlight, for everybody to see.

Most of all he likes shadows, where he can watch what is happening, but stay away from the light himself.

His palms sweat and one of them is bleeding, but he concentrates on placing one foot after another as he climbs down the ladder. Shuddering breaths spill from his lips, and he realises that he’s not in control of his fear. That’s dangerous. How far will this ladder stretch? He’s caught by the thought that he could be sinking ever deeper into an inescapable well. What if he cannot open the door again? What if it is too heavy?

 _I’ll die down here_ , he thinks.

Raven is with him. He reminds himself of that over and over. Even though she is in her Poké Ball, she is always with him. So are his other Pokémon, in the backpack slung over one shoulder. He tries to find confidence in them, and continues back down the ladder. Each time that his foot moves down a rung, there is a terrifying moment where it hangs in the air and he expects the next foothold never to appear, but every time it does, until with a jarring _thud_ to his knee, he hits solid ground.

Disorientated, he stumbles.

He swears aloud, but there is no one down here to hear him. A shaking hand fumbles for the zip of his backpack and he searches for his torch. When he switches it into life, the crushing weight of fear lifts from his chest a little.

The basement is clearly disused, but it is not filled with any horrors, and it does not look like an inescapable dungeon. In one corner, there is a desk with a very outdated computer and a fax machine gathering dust. Nearly every wall is covered with shelves containing loose files, or low locked filing cabinets. Youngjo swivels the torch around, wondering when this room was last used, and then turns the torch back a little when something catches his eye.

 _A door_.

This is what he came down here for.

From this point onwards, when he leaves the basement, the danger multiplies. Not danger from the people above, as this is a place for scientists, not warriors. But the danger of being seen, of being caught.

Youngjo crosses to the door and points the torch to his hand for a second. Blood is oozing from the small cut and there’s dark brown rust all over his palm. Cursing, he crouches down to try to find something in his backpack that he can wrap up the wound with. He seems to be injuring himself more and more at the moment. Perhaps he is getting sloppy.

Agent Sun would say so. Since they reached Daegu, his handler has been worse than ever. Youngjo wishes that he could escape Team Rocket if only so that he would never have to see him again.

Cut bound with some of the gauze that Hwanwoong had bought, he closes his hand on the door handle.

 _Hwanwoong_.

He wonders where he is now.

Probably with his friends, around a campfire while they set up tents for the night, or sleeping in a cosy bed offered by generous strangers in one of the small towns along the training routes. _Warm and dry_ is enough to make Youngjo jealous, when the rain has drenched every millimetre of his body. Jealousy is an ugly emotion, he thinks. The victim of such resentment rarely deserves it. Hwanwoong certainly doesn’t.

Youngjo pulls the door open with a click, relieved to find it unlocked, and points his torch up a long, dark staircase. This seems like the perfect habitat for ghost Pokémon, and as he starts up the stairs he feels the hairs on his neck start to stand up. Sure that he hears something behind him, he spins around, but the swing of his torch reveals nothing. Swallowing, he returns to his climb.

With the torchlight pointing the path ahead, the climb seems far shorter and less daunting than the descent had been.

The door at the head of the staircase is closed with a bar across it similar to a fire door. Youngjo knows that he need only press it down and enter into the corridor beyond, but now his heart is in his mouth.

He leans his ear to the door, and hears nothing.

It is nearly 3am. The small laboratory should be almost empty. But he remembers the light glowing in the windows and he knows that there may be one or two scientists still working here. What sort of luck would it be for one of them to encounter him? And then he would be faced with a choice: silence them, or _run_.

He presses down the bar, wincing as it creaks with disuse, and opens the door just a crack. Automatic lights flicker on overhead and he almost slams the door shut again, but he has come too far now.

He slips out, and glances from left to right. The corridor is long, with several doors leading off on both sides. All that he knows is that his target will be stored in the industrial refrigerators on the fourth floor. If he can get there without being seen…

Every footstep sounds like a gunshot to his own ears, even though he knows that in reality he is moving silently. He passes an elevator, but he cannot risk bringing that into life. A fire escape… some sort of stairwell… that’s all he needs.

Then –

_Footsteps._

Panic hauling him back by the neck, Youngjo ducks backwards and falls instinctively back through the nearest doorway.

It is unlocked, and he stumbles into a dark room. An office. As his breath spills out in low pants, he listens as the footsteps reach the door. _Do they slow_? He cannot tell. It seems to take an hour for them to pass, but then they fade away, and his heart slows just a little.

He closes his eyes and counts to twenty to calm himself.

The Elixir.

He must find the Elixir.

Back out in the corridor, he moves more swiftly than before. He keeps his body low with a posture like a cat slinking through a dark alley, and relief floods his veins when he finds a door with a dirty window that leads to a dark stairwell. There are no automatic lights here, so he switches on his torch again as he makes his way up the stairs.

There are no signs indicating the floors, so he counts the storeys. When he reaches the fourth floor, he finds the door out of the stairwell locked.

_Don’t panic._

He crouches down and rummages through his bag for his lockpicking set. This laboratory does not have military level security, and he hopes that the lock is a simple one. If not, then he’ll have to break the glass, and that will draw attention. Every motion with the tiny metal pieces is delicate, even though his fingers are shaking. Lockpicking was one of the first skills that he was ever taught by Team Rocket.

_Patience…_

_Patience…_

_Click!_

He sits back and inhales slowly.

But he cannot wait long.

With a turn of the knob, the door swings open, and he finds himself in a new corridor. The refrigerators are obvious from the heavy, rubber sealed doors that dominate the far end of the hallway. Youngjo jogs down the corridor and prays that there will be no more locks to stand in his way.

Because his right hand is cut, he closes his left on the latch, before dragging open the door.

Cold hits him in a second.

He ducks inside and turns his torch in every direction.

Trays and trays of samples are laid out in racks. The Elixir could be obvious, or it could be invisible. All he knows is the number of the experiment.

His teeth begin to chatter together as he searches, and his already trembling hands become even more useless with the longer that he stays in the chiller. He shakes his arms to try to bring feeling into them as he traces his fingers along test-tube after test-tube, tray after tray. His eyes ache from the strain of reading by torchlight, and his wet clothes take on the cold with agonising glee. Shaking badly, Youngjo pulls out another tray of samples, but their numbers are nothing like the code for the experiment.

Panic begins to rise up again.

He glances over his shoulder, wasting precious time, but it is becoming a reflex.

‘Come on,’ he whispers aloud, unable to stop himself. ‘Come _on_.’

When hope drains out of him like the blood on his hand, he kicks out at a wheeled trolley and watches as it clatters away. As if eyes follow its trajectory, he spots an unsearched rack of vials, each labelled with red ink. The torchlight illuminates the formula with a yellowish green glow. Trusting, for just a second of his life, that luck might be on his side, Youngjo crosses over.

His fumbling fingers catch hold of the first vial, and as he lifts it up to his eyes, he feels something that he hasn’t felt for a very long time:

_Triumph._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo everyone! I’m back! I’m sorry that this update took so long. I had to work on my fic for the Weus fest for a while since there was a deadline upcoming! I hope that you enjoy this chapter and that it makes up for my absence.

By the time that Hwanwoong arrives with his friends in Daegu City, the banners are already being hung to announce the beginning of the tournament. They trundle in on a small, silver shuttle bus, recommended by Keonhee for its speed and low price, after two days of hard training along the river. Hwanwoong and his Pokémon are tired, and there’s a scratch on his cheek from training Growlithe in amongst the trees lining the riverbank. On the rattling shuttle bus, he rests his cheek against Geonhak’s shoulder in a half-sleep.

Both sides of the street are filled with city workers stringing the red and blue competition banners from street-light to street-light, phone mast to phone mast. The city is busy already, but there is an air of excitement that suggests many of the people hording in the streets have also travelled here for the tournament.

‘We need to find a place to stay,’ says Geonhak in a murmur to Seoho. ‘All of the Pokémon Centres will already be full, or booked up for the competition period.’

Hwanwoong can just hear, the sound muffled because one of his aids is pressed into Geonhak’s shoulder. He’s still halfway in a dream, the soft green and floral scene interrupted by the blurring sounds, and he twitches with anxiety as his subconscious struggles to listen. When his mind can’t work out the words, it gives in to worry and he jolts awake, and lifts his head from Geonhak’s shoulder. ‘Where are we?’ he mumbles, confused, as he rubs sleep from his eyes.

‘Daegu City. We haven’t stopped yet,’ laughs Seoho, from the other side of the aisle on the shuttle. ‘Don’t worry, Keonhee gave me a recommendation. He said that this Inn would definitely find us a room if I told them he sent us. Look, Woong, out that window.’ He points, and Hwanwoong blinks for a second, as he begins to make out the trainers piling down the sidewalk to their left.

In amongst the crowd, there is a huge Charizard, cleaving a path for the trainer in toe. A Crobat flies high above, watching the scene below. A group of tourists in Pikachu hats bunch together as the horde moves as one. Even though the competition will not start for a few days and then it will only be preliminaries, half of the Pokémon fanatics in the country have already descended upon the city. Growlithe darts up the onto his lap from the floor of the bus and places his paws on the window.

‘I’ve never been somewhere like this,’ breathes Hwanwoong.

In the seat in front, Dongju is asleep, forehead against the window, and his Raichu is curled up on the seat beside him. In the short time that they have been travelling together, Hwanwoong has never seen someone so close to his Pokémon as Dongju is with that Raichu. Dongju never lets the Pokémon out of his sight and Hwanwoong understands that: if Growlithe wasn’t so rebellious and ran off every five minutes, then he would never let him out of his sight either. The Raichu is a powerful Pokémon, too. Hwanwoong is sure that if anything happened, Raichu would be able to protect Dongju. That would’ve been important, when his parents let him leave home to begin his travels at such a young age.

Asleep, Dongju looks younger now. Hwanwoong can imagine him when he was fourteen, taking on the world.

‘Here, we’re at the final stop!’ Seoho beams, and just on cue the bus trundles to a halt.

The trainers in front stir and spill into the narrow aisle. Hwanwoong leans over the seat in front to shake Dongju awake. As the four of them sidle from the back to the doors, Dongju yawns and Geonhak has to hold his shoulders to guide him down the steps to the sidewalk.

Outside, there is an explosion of stimuli.

Hwanwoong’s eyes cannot look in enough directions at once. The noise is so overwhelming that he takes out his hearing aids and lets Seoho pull him by the hand instead. Geonhak lifts his Growlithe up into his backpack for him because there are so many Pokémon flitting around the feet of the crowd that it would be far too easy to get lost. Even higher than the tour groups in Pikachu caps, though, Seoho is visible to the whole group. Skitty sits atop his head like a crown, her claws knotted into his hair, and though people turn to give them strange looks Seoho marches ahead as though he does not even notice them.

At first, Seoho seems to be following some kind of map that he holds with one hand (the other still grasping Hwanwoong’s tightly) but when Hwanwoong looks up again, he sees that it is Skitty who is directing him, tugging his hair to turn him in each direction. Hwanwoong isn’t sure that he trusts her navigation skills because more than once he is sure that they retrace their steps, but it is hard to tell with the city so rammed and all of the recognisable landmarks covered by tournament banners.

‘Up ahead here!’ shouts Seoho and Hwanwoong slips his aids back into place when they manage to pop out of the crowd into a side street.

The buildings on both sides are densely packed in terraces and stretch up to the sky so tall that only a narrow strip of light makes it down to them. Most of the doors are closed with padlocks or dusty key-code entry points. At the very end of the alley, though, a heavy wooden sign swings above a narrow building reading nothing but _Inn_. A little nervous, Hwanwoong looks up at Geonhak and Seoho. Even Dongju lingers behind them.

‘Are you sure, Seoho-hyung?’ asks Dongju.

‘Keonhee promised that this place is the best kept secret in the city,’ answers Seoho in a cheerful voice, unphased by the location. ‘And it might be the only place where we can find an available room.’

When they stop outside the Inn, Hwanwoong cranes his neck back and makes out that it stands four storeys. The frontage is undecorated, but when he narrows his eyes at the sign he can make out well-worn carvings of Unown. Uneasy, he looks back down and hitches his backpack further up onto his shoulders.

Seoho pushes the door open with no resistance, but a small bell tinkles overhead as they cram into the lobby.

Inside, the Inn is a little less unsettling, but only just. Hwanwoong still finds himself wondering how Keonhee could possibly have found himself here, and why on earth he would recommend it. 

There is a desk up ahead with another polished gold bell atop the counter. Two threadbare chairs are arranged unevenly, and Geonhak sits down in one as his eyes scan around the room. The one yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling is flickering. Blue and yellow wallpaper has faded to a dull beige and peels when Hwanwoong touches his fingers to it.

Suddenly, though there is no sound or sign of movement, Hwanwoong is certain that there is something behind him. It’s as if the texture of the air changes.

He spins around with a gasp, and has to clap a hand over his mouth to stop himself from screaming.

A yellow Pokémon, taller than Hwanwoong and far broader, is mere inches from him. From its hand hangs a still pendulum of glinting silver. Narrow eyes focus on Hwanwoong like it is waiting for him to make a move, but he can do nothing but stare in horror, until Seoho takes his shoulders and murmurs:

‘It’s okay, it’s just a Hypno.’

Hwanwoong nods, but his chest is tight and afraid.

Just when he’s certain that the Pokémon is going to attack, a man appears from the staircase behind and hurries down into the lobby. He is large and muscular but the definition is hidden behind a loose white shirt. Like his Pokémon, his eyes are quite narrow and the whites are very bright. Greying hair is pushed back from his face in streaks. ‘Don’t mind my Hypno,’ he says, and when he speaks, he sounds quite normal.

Seoho gulps. ‘Um… hello sir,’ he bows. ‘Are you the inn-keeper?’

‘Sure am,’ he says as he swings the countertop to get behind his desk. ‘You four trainers?’

‘Yes. We’re going to compete at the tournament in town. Our friend Keonhee recommended your Inn for somewhere to stay, since everywhere is booked up. He said that you would be able to help us out?’ Even before he finishes, his voice is trailing off because all of them can see from the innkeeper’s expression that he does not know what they are talking about.

‘Keonhee?’

‘Lee Keonhee.’

The innkeeper shakes his head. ‘Never heard of him.’

Seoho and Geonhak exchange apprehensive looks. ‘You – you haven’t?’

‘Sorry,’ he says, but he doesn’t sound very sorry.

‘I think that we must have read the map wrong,’ sighs Seoho. ‘Dammit, Skitty,’ he whines and the cat Pokémon hisses at him.

Even as they bicker, man and Pokémon, Hwanwoong’s eyes stray back to that Hypno again. Its bright eyes are still fixed on him.

‘Sorry to waste your time,’ Seoho adds miserably.

When they turn to leave, though, the innkeeper holds up a hand. ‘I don’t know your friend but I can help you out with the rooms. You’re right. Everywhere in town is fully booked. But no one ever comes down this way. I have two rooms available on my top floor.’

Seoho glances around at the others. Hwanwoong bites his lip nervously but Dongju and Geonhak just shrug.

‘We might never be able to find the other place,’ says Geonhak, ‘and even then it could already be booked. I don’t see why we can’t just stay here.’

‘I’ll offer you a good price. Cheaper than you’ll get anywhere else.’

‘Okay, let’s vote on it,’ sighs Seoho.

‘I’m in.’

‘Me too,’ Dongju nods.

They all look at Hwanwoong. Is he the only one that feels uneasy? Not eager to drag his friends back out into the crammed streets, he sighs and nods too. ‘Okay. Sure.’

The rooms, to the credit of the innkeeper, are clean, and high enough above the street level that none of the chaos drifts through the windows. Dongju and Hwanwoong decide to share one room, Seoho and Geonhak the other, and there is plenty of room for them to set down their things and Raichu and Growlithe have enough space to chase each other around from wall to wall.

Seoho has told them to meet again in the corridor in half an hour so that they can go to register for the competition together. It is just enough time to freshen up after the long shuttle ride, and Hwanwoong examines his face in the oxidised mirror above the small basin in the bathroom. The scratch on his cheek from training as scabbed over and he resists the urge to pick at it, knowing that his mom would tell him off if she were here.

‘I won’t register for the competition,’ he tells himself in the mirror. His Pokémon are not trained enough, especially Poliwag, and he does not need to load such pressure on himself right now. He hasn’t even had his first battle against another trainer; he wants to practice with his friends long before entering a tournament. ‘You’re not going to get yourself into any more sticky situations,’ he reminds himself, ‘it’s time to take it easy for a while.’

~

Registering for the tournament is almost as stressful as moving through the streets.

The grand stadium which will hold the finals has been opened up for the registration, and the friends are filed into different lines based on their surnames in order to sign up at the registration desks. Hwanwoong stays with Dongju, in the line for S-Z, and they shuffle forwards slowly, packed in between two large groups of friends. Dongju chatters away but Hwanwoong feels nauseated being surrounded by so many people.

‘I think we might have secured the best deal in town after all,’ says Dongju, talking about the Inn again. ‘The room is big and I can’t believe how cheap it is. Everywhere else has hiked up the prices during the tournament.’

‘I think that Hypno is a little spooky though.’

‘Oh definitely,’ laughs Dongju, ‘but all Psychic Pokémon can be a bit spooky. When I was signing in the book, the innkeeper said that everyone who stays at the Inn gets the best night of sleep because of Hypno’s _Hypnosis_. That could be really helpful, especially if we’re nervous before the competition.’

‘Mm,’ Hwanwoong hums. He is still not convinced.

As he concentrates on catching snippets of the other conversations around them, he is interested to hear the boys in front of them say something about Team Rocket. Emboldened by the presence of his new friend by his side, Hwanwoong leans forward and clears his throat.

‘Excuse me? Did you mention Team Rocket?’

The friends turn around. They are a little younger than him and Dongju, but have friendly faces. ‘Team Rocket? Yeah, there’s a lot of talk that they’re in town.’

‘In town? Why?’

‘Could be to try to disrupt the tournament,’ one of them shrugs, ‘you know what they’re like.’

The smallest of the boys, with bleach blond hair, gives the others a furtive look. ‘Or they could be using it as an opportunity to steal Pokémon. Whenever there’s a big event like this they end up in town.’

‘Apparently the police chased two grunts last night but they both got away. And there are reports of a Vaporeon and Flareon going missing already. You might see the posters.’

‘I hate those guys,’ one of the boys mutters, ‘they have to come and ruin everything.’

_Is Youngjo here_?

It’s a shameful thing to think, and Hwanwoong chastises himself inside. Why should he care? He gulps, and Dongju seems to mistake his discomfort for fear. ‘It’s okay Hwanwoong, Team Rocket always make their presence known but there will be police swarming over town for the competition. We’ll be fine.’

With all of the hotels and Pokémon Centres booked to capacity, Hwanwoong finds himself wondering where Youngjo might be staying if he is in the city. Perhaps Team Rocket have a base somewhere. Somehow, though, Hwanwoong imagines that he’s more likely to be sleeping down a side street, the sort of street where they found the Inn, and with the spring showers bringing rain every other night, the thought makes him frown.

_Will their paths cross again_?

The boys in front have reached the registration desk, but Hwanwoong is still deep in thought. When it is their turn, Dongju steps up right away and spells out his name and Pokémon for them to write down. ‘And this is Hwanwoong. Yeo Hwanwoong. Current team Growlithe, Poliwag and Magnemite.’

‘What?’ Hwanwoong is snapped from his thoughts. ‘Dongju, I’m not competing!’

‘Oh come on, Woong, it’ll be fun!’ he says in a pleading voice. ‘Sign up with me! We probably won’t even get past the preliminaries but it will be a laugh.’

Not wanting to appear like a spoilsport to his new friend, Hwanwoong sighs. ‘Fine.’

He is presented by the lady behind the desk with a lanyard that she assures him he _must not lose_ , as well as a gift bag from the competition organisers. Assigned a number and given instructions for how to check his matches in the draw, Hwanwoong nods and nods and wonders how on earth he managed to be convinced to do this. Dongju is buzzing with excitement beside him.

Due to their late registration, their first matches will not be until a week away.

‘That’s good,’ says Dongju, ‘plenty of time to train up your Pokémon.’

‘Right.’ Hwanwoong’s voice is mechanical.

‘Raichu and I are gonna fry the opposition.’

Still thinking about Team Rocket, Hwanwoong wonders how far Youngjo would advance through the competition with his Umbreon. His powerful Umbreon.

‘Hwanwoong? Are you listening?’

‘Yep.’

The truth is that he isn’t listening. Not for the first time, he’s lost in thoughts of his agent RAVN.

He thinks about him the whole way back to the Inn. Frustrating as it is, his face is the only one that crosses his vision. Something about Youngjo means that he cannot get him off his mind. Even as they push their way through the hordes on the streets, he feels like he is floating as his mind drifts. He nods along to the small-talk that Dongju makes, but all he can think about is Team Rocket. Will the police catch them? Will they catch _him_? Are they really in town at all or is there just a collective fear that something terrible _could_ come to pass?

Dongju and Hwanwoong arrive back at the Inn long before their friends, who were in the slower queues at the registration centre. They slip down the side street and Dongju releases his Raichu from its Poké Ball to stretch at last. When Hwanwoong’s eye is caught by the swinging Unown sign, he feels a shiver down his spine again but he shakes it off and allows Growlithe to run ahead too.

His Pokémon has become close with Raichu almost immediately. In a way, he wishes that it were as easy to make friends for people as for Pokémon. All it takes for Pokémon is two seconds and a game begins. For humans… it’s harder. Having never had close friends, Hwanwoong finds silences when walking with Dongju and the others difficult to manage. Is he boring them? Should he try to fill the quiet? What if he says the wrong thing? He finds himself second-guessing every sentence.

Especially when his mind keeps drifting like this.

‘We need to get you some battle experience,’ says Dongju as they let themselves into the Inn lobby. ‘You can battle me but my Raichu might roast you guys.’

They both look up when they see the innkeeper waiting behind the desk. And just in front of him –

‘Officer Jennie?’ Hwanwoong gasps in surprise.

The familiar police officer turns to face him. Her blonde hair falls around her shoulders and the roots have grown out into a jaggedy black line. Her pale blue jacket with the purple trim is zipped tight as ever but the rest of her uniform is missing. Instead she’s dressed in dark, tight jeans and leather boots climb up to her knees with a blocky wedge heel. It’s as if she came here in a hurry. ‘I – Yeo Hwanwoong?’

He is surprised that she remembers his name. ‘You came to Daegu!’

She sighs and brushes her bangs from her face. She looks tired. There are dark shadows under her eyes. ‘Yes. Team Rocket are in town, I am afraid to say. The agent RAVN has been sighted again at the centre of suspicious activity.’

Hwanwoong’s heart does a strange lurch that is something like a backflip and a belly-flop at the same time. _RAVN._ ‘What suspicious activity?’ he asks, expecting to hear about the missing Vaporeon and Flareon. If Youngjo is involved in stealing those Pokémon then…

‘Something was stolen,’ says Officer Jennie. ‘From a medical research lab here in the city.’

‘From a lab?’ says Dongju. He sounds as surprised as Hwanwoong at this answer. Hwanwoong cannot help but be relieved that Youngjo was not, as far as he can tell, involved in the disappearance of the Pokémon. ‘What was it?’

‘Some kind of serum,’ says the officer, and it is clear that she isn’t going to elaborate. ‘Hwanwoong, you must be extra careful. Since you have had a run-in with this agent before, there is a chance that he might try to target you. If you would like, then we can assign an officer to watch over you?’

Hwanwoong shakes his head quickly, embarrassed. ‘No, it’s okay!’ Firstly, he can think of nothing worse than having a police officer tailing their every move in the city. Secondly, he knows that Youngjo will not try to come after him, to finish the job. Little does the officer know that Youngjo owes him a favour, a favour that he has promised to repay some day. ‘Do you have any idea where RAVN and the other agents are hiding out?’

She shakes her head with a sigh. ‘No. Nor do we know what they are planning. My team are scouring the city. We will find them.’

Hwanwoong nods and swallows. ‘Okay.’

‘You boys should run along,’ adds Officer Jennie. ‘Stay safe.’

It’s obvious that she wants to end the conversation, and the two of them oblige instantly. On the stairs, however, Hwanwoong pauses. He cannot help but wonder why Officer Jennie has come _here_. Dongju walks straight into his back but when Hwanwoong holds out a hand they both freeze, listening to the conversation that has resumed below. Hwanwoong holds his breath to keep quiet, and Dongju is still as the night. A frown knits his forehead together.

‘You must tell us, Mr Kim.’

The innkeeper’s reply is too quiet for Hwanwoong to pick up, but he can see the way that Dongju narrows his eyes and then glances his way. Just as Hwanwoong strains to hear anything, he looks up and nearly falls back down the stairs.

The uncanny Hypno stands a foot away from him on the top step. Its bright eyes bore into his and a vice of fear closes on Hwanwoong’s chest. He grabs Dongju by the wrist and pulls him past the Pokémon up the rest of the stairs. They have been caught eavesdropping. Why, Hwanwoong does not know, but he does not like that Hypno at all. By the time they reach the top floor, he is gasping for breath having taken the stairs three at a time.

‘We need to grab our stuff!’ gasps Dongju.

‘What? What did you hear them saying?’ Hwanwoong pants.

‘That guy, the innkeeper, he has some sort of involvement with Team Rocket. That’s why Officer Jennie is here. She kept saying that he needs to share his _information_. I don’t know what it’s all about but it’s not right. We can’t stay here. Our Pokémon aren’t safe!’

Panicking, Hwanwoong gulps and grabs for the possessions that he’d unpacked earlier. ‘We need to get Seoho and Geonhak’s things too!’

‘I’ll get them!’ says Dongju.

Hwanwoong secures Growlithe inside his Poké Ball and checks that his Magnemite and Poliwag are safe before loading the rest of his things into his backpack.

Fear grips his gut. He is not afraid of Team Rocket, per-se. Not anymore. Not of men and women in grey with the letter _R_ painted on their shirts in dripping red paint. He has seen them on the news, and he has brushed close against them during his dangerous encounter with Youngjo. But he does not fear them. To Hwanwoong they are cowards. What he fears, though, is losing Growlithe, and fear drives him to pull Dongju’s backpack onto one shoulder beside his own on the other.

They creep down the stairs, but the Hypno is nowhere to be seen.

At the bottom of the rickety wooden staircase, Dongju presses a finger to his lips, and they prepare to run for the door.

When they dart across the lobby, though, they find it deserted.

‘Let’s go,’ says Dongju, looking around uneasily. ‘We might not get another chance.’

They don’t stop running until they are halfway down the next street.

~

At first, but not for the first time, Hwanwoong does not remember where he is when he wakes up. The room is wide and airy. The windows are thrown open to let in spring air that swirls around the room with a cool breeze. When his eyes flicker open, they meet white ceiling, and he rolls onto his side. Dongju is asleep in the bed beside him, across from a smooth silver nightstand. The display on the white digital clock tells him that it’s nearly 8am already. Slowly, the events of the previous day flood back.

The strange Inn.

Registration at the stadium.

Seeing Officer Jennie again.

And that innkeeper.

Running down the street with Dongju, four backpacks on their backs.

Hunting down Seoho and Geonhak, enjoying ice creams outside the venue.

Finding the Inn that Keonhee recommended to them, a pretty, modern building on one of the main streets close to the stadium.

Hwanwoong blinks and reaches for his hearing aids.

The world comes into a different kind of focus and he rolls back onto his back. Growlithe jumps up onto the bed and licks at his face, and for once he does not push him away with a laugh. Hwanwoong feels revitalised, like he just has the best sleep of his life. Now that he comes to think of it, he’s sure that he didn’t dream. That’s unusual. Usually his night times are filled with complex stories about Pokémon, adventures catching them for his Pokédex, and winning televised competitions that make his mom proud of him.

In fact, given that he collapsed into bed around nine o’clock, he has slept for a ridiculous amount of time.

Growlithe nudges the side of his head with his nose.

Hwanwoong sits up and stretches out, careful not to wake Dongju.

When Growlithe paws at his leg, he meets his beetle-black eyes and frowns. ‘What are you trying to tell me? Do you want your breakfast?’

Growlithe paws at him again, and then jumps off the bed.

Confused, Hwanwoong stands and shuffles across to pull the windows a little closed. It is only springtime and he shivers in his thin cotton pyjamas. As he moves the windows onto the catch, he looks down onto the street. Even early in the day, the crowds for the tournament have spilled onto the streets. Hwanwoong watches as a Blastoise leads the way for a group of workmen trying to hang banners amongst the hordes. A group of children are playing a complicated game that involves frog-leaping over a bored looking Golem who must have been left to watch over them.

Hwanwoong touches the smooth white frame of the window and is struck by the thought that they never would’ve left it so wide open. The sound from below would’ve kept Dongju awake. The air was too cool. He turns around and the creeping feeling of unease from the last Inn crawls back over his skin. The hairs on his arms stand on end and he bites his lip nervously. The thud of his heart becomes uneven against his chest, or maybe it just feels that way, but all of a sudden everything seems urgent.

‘Dongju?’ He crosses to the other bed and shakes his friend awake. ‘Dongju, wake up!’

Dongju is bleary eyed and confused when he rolls over. ‘ _Wazz-goin-on_?’ is the blur of sounds that spill from his lips. He looks dazed.

‘Did you leave the window wide open last night?’ asks Hwanwoong in a rush.

‘Dunno,’ mumbles Dongju and he grabs his pillow to cover his head before turning onto his side away from him.

Hwanwoong, though, is not discouraged. He gives his shoulder another shove. ‘Dongju, did you leave it open?’

Dongju’s voice is muffled through the pillow. ‘Don’t think so.’

A fist of worry clenches on Hwanwoong’s heart and he glances around the room, afraid that they might have been robbed. Then, Growlithe begins to bark, beside his backpack. In a second, he sees that his Poké Balls are gone.

‘W-where?’ he starts. Worry turns to terrible fear. ‘Dongju wake up!’

Growlithe runs under the bed and reappears in a moment, nudging a Poké Ball along with his nose. It is the Great Ball that Hwanwoong used to catch his Poliwag. When it is in the middle of the floor, he returns and nudges out another that must contain his Magnemite. Confused, unable to make sense of it all, Hwanwoong looks around in a panic and sees that the line of Poké Balls that Dongju left lined up on the dresser the previous night has vanished.

‘Dongju, the Poké Balls have gone!’

Finally, Dongju is roused, and he sits up, rubs his eyes, and frowns at the room at large. ‘What?’

‘The Poké Balls are gone.’ His voice turns hollow as he says it, because reality has settled on his shoulders with all of the weight of the world.

The next half hour passes in a blur.

Seoho and Geonhak are awoken from the next room, and they search the room high and low along with Hwanwoong and Dongju, but it is an empty search. They all know the truth. They all know what has happened.

‘I don’t understand,’ says Geonhak. ‘If they were – were taking Pokémon, then why wouldn’t they take Growlithe and your Pokémon, Hwanwoong?’

‘I think that Growlithe hid the Poké Balls under the bed,’ he says.

The room had been torn to shreds in their search. His mattress, even, is thrown off the bed. Dongju, though, has sat down on his own bed and is now staring at the wall with his lips slightly parted.

‘Why wouldn’t Growlithe have woken you up?’ presses Seoho. ‘If there was an intruder then - ’

‘I wouldn’t have heard him barking.’

‘But Dongju - ’

Hwanwoong’s forehead creases in thought but everything is so confusing. He still feels sleepy. ‘I don’t – what if - ’ A stone drops in the pit of his stomach. ‘We wouldn’t have woken up if a powerful Psychic type Pokémon had used its _Hypnosis_ on us.’

Seoho and Geonhak stare at him, and he can see in their eyes that it is all making sense.

‘They took Raichu,’ says Dongju. They are the first words to have escaped his lips in half an hour. When Hwanwoong turns around, he sees that tears have begun to drip down his face. Silent tears. Dongju is crying. ‘They – they took Raichu.’

Growlithe scratches Hwanwoong’s ankles, and his heart breaks into two. ‘Dongju - ’

The quiet tears turn to sobs in a second. The transformation jars the room. Dongju falls onto his side and wraps his arms around his legs as he curls up into a ball. His shoulders shake with rattling sobs that will live as an image in Hwanwoong’s mind forever. Seoho drops down onto the bed and tries to reach for him, but Dongju scrambles away. ‘Don’t! Don’t touch me!’

‘We’ll find them, Dongju. We’ll get Raichu back,’ says Seoho.

‘No, you won’t! Once Team Rocket take Pokémon, you never get them back!’ sobs Dongju.

Hwanwoong thinks of the stories that Dongju has already told him. He thinks about the first time that Dongju picked up his Pikachu, and the day that they set out on their journey together when he was fourteen, and the day that he saw him evolve. His stomach burns with acid and he thinks that he might be sick. Raichu… in the hands of Team Rocket.

‘I don’t understand,’ says Geonhak, in his calming voice. Out of all of them, he has remained the most composed. With a steady tone, he turns to Hwanwoong. ‘If the innkeeper had Hypno use its attack on you, then why was Officer Jennie there yesterday? If she knew that he was involved with Team Rocket then she would’ve arrested him right there and then, wouldn’t she?’

‘It doesn’t need to make sense, Geonhak!’ Seoho cries in response. ‘Hwanwoong’s right! It’s the only thing that could’ve happened! Raichu is such a powerful Pokémon. The innkeeper must’ve passed on the information. They didn’t go looking for Hwanwoong’s Pokémon because that wasn’t what they were sent here for!’ As if he remembers that Dongju is beside him, he rests a gentle hand on his shoulder and squeezes. ‘We _will_ find Raichu, Dongju.’

‘Just shut up!’ shouts Dongju. His voice hacks and splutters with tears. ‘They _never_ find them!’

At that moment, a strange calm settles over Hwanwoong. Even as Geonhak sits down onto the bed to try to comfort Dongju too, and even as Growlithe winds around his legs in a panic, he feels a surety and a calm. The room is wrecked, sheets and clothes thrown everywhere, but his mind feels quite in order. ‘I know a way that we can find Raichu,’ he says.

‘It’s okay,’ murmurs Seoho to Dongju, but the boy is beyond consolation. When he tries to brush the hair back from his wet face, Dongju pulls away.

‘I know a way,’ repeats Hwanwoong, louder.

‘Shh,’ whispers Geonhak to Dongju.

‘I know a way to get to Team Rocket,’ says Hwanwoong, this time so loud that they all turn to look at him. Dongju’s face is red and his eyes are sheened with glass. ‘I need to find the agent that they talk about. RAVN. If I can find the agent then I can get to Raichu.’

‘How - ’ starts Geonhak, but Seoho is already onto his train of thought.

He slides off the bed and over to him. ‘How do we find RAVN? How, Hwanwoong?’

‘I don’t know. But I know where to start. I say we go back to that Inn. If the innkeeper knows so much then I want to hear it.’

Seoho stands up and puffs his chest out. ‘Are you sure that you’re ready for this, Hwanwoong?’

The words come out as naturally as breathing. ‘I’m ready. He owes me one.’

~

Sneaking in was easy.

Youngjo sits on one of the foldable plastic seats and picks at the dry protein bar that makes up his breakfast. Below him, the stadium is empty. Forty thousand chairs are crammed together. Wide screens overhead are black and sleeping, but ready to show the action at any second. The speakers are quiet but if he closes his eyes he can imagine the sound of battle; the roar of the crowd. He shuts his eyes and remembers visiting this stadium as a child. He remembers watching his father from a low seat in the west stand.

As his eyes flicker open again, he stares at the battle zone. It is neutral, now, a Poké Ball printed in plain white across the dusty ground, but he knows that the zone can be prepared for any type of battle in an instant. Water, grass, rock. Any habitat, any terrain.

How would it be to be down on the dust with Raven, ready to take on the opposition in a grand final?

In his mind, he can hear the fans screaming.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes.

A message with an alert that he cannot ignore.

Youngjo throws aside the rest of his meagre breakfast and stands. Light-headed, he sways on the spot, but the dizziness passes. ‘Let’s go,’ he says to Raven. She jumps down from the blue plastic seat and darts ahead of him back down the row.

This stadium is not for him.

Youngjo is not destined for this kind of victory.

He has never deserved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Rawoong will actually see each other again next chapter. I know it’s been forever T.T Please let me know what you thought and you can say hi to me on [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong) too <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi! I’m back ^-^  
> I feel like we’re moving into the nutritious portion of this work now and I’m excited to share it with you! >.<

It is lucky that Geonhak’s Pokémon are not so dissimilar from himself: gentle, caring, but with an exterior that can be dressed up to be quite intimidating. His Marill stays in his bag, for she does not possess such traits, but they march into the Inn with Houndoom leading the way, and Hwanwoong has to hide behind Seoho because the Pokémon can be so terrifying.

Houndoom launches ahead, growling and barking with such ferocity that the entire street will be awoken. His pronged tail kicks back and forth, dragging grooves into any surface it touches, and the skeletal horns on his head glow white. In Hwanwoong’s backpack, Growlithe lets out a low whine of fear. The barks are so loud that Hwanwoong winces and turns down the volume on his aids. Even though he knows that Houndoom would not hurt him, he cannot tear his eyes from his blood red claws, ready to rip at flesh, and vicious white teeth.

‘I don’t know anything!’ shouts the innkeeper. ‘I can’t help you!’

‘I bet you know everything!’ snaps Seoho. His Skitty and Cyndaquil have neutralised the Hypno. ‘You set us up!’

‘I didn’t set you up!’

‘Then why was Officer Jennie here yesterday? If you’re not Team Rocket scum?’ he demands.

The innkeeper wipes sweat from his brow and falls further back against his desk as Houndoom snaps at his shins. ‘I’m an informant! Team Rocket pass through my Inn all the time. It’s got a reputation. I hear things. Officer Jennie came here asking about this stolen serum, but I didn’t know anything. I don’t.’

‘Your Hypno put us to sleep!’

‘My Hypno would never do something like that!’ the innkeeper says and at last his voice becomes angry and defensive. ‘I rescued him from the circus years ago, he’s very afraid of people and other Pokémon. He only uses his _Hypnosis_ to help my patrons sleep!’

Hwanwoong looks over at the Hypno that has scared him so much. Now that the innkeeper says it, he cannot deny that the Pokémon has made no real effort to battle Skitty and Cyndaquil, even though they barely reach his knees. When he looks into those bright white eyes he doesn’t see any threat. Conviction faltering, Hwanwoong glances back at the innkeeper. ‘If it wasn’t you who told Team Rocket about Dongju’s Pokémon, then who did?’

‘I don’t know. Team Rocket have spies everywhere. Anyone in the city could’ve seen that Raichu. Maybe someone who registered your Pokémon at the stadium. They could’ve been following you since then.’

Dongju squeezes his eyes shut and Geonhak puts an arm around his shoulders.

With a shaky breath, Hwanwoong steps forwards. ‘Look, it doesn’t matter either way. Whether it was you or not, we need to find these Pokémon.’

‘I don’t know where they are.’

‘I don’t need to know where they are. I need to know where the agent who goes by the name of RAVN would be hiding.’

‘Never heard of him,’ says the innkeeper, but it’s obvious in his eyes that he has.

‘Don’t screw us around,’ says Geonhak. Houndoom growls. ‘We know he’s here.’

The innkeeper throws up his hands in defence and Houndoom makes a snap at them. ‘You’d be putting yourselves in danger. Nothing good follows RAVN. If you go hunting him down then he won’t like it. You’ll pay the price.’

‘Tell us where to find him.’

‘You’ll land yourselves in a situation you can’t get out of. You’re practically kids.’

‘Tell us where he is. Kim Youngjo. RAVN. I know him,’ grits Hwanwoong through his teeth.

The name makes the innkeeper pause in his protests. He glances around the empty lobby as if he is afraid to be overheard, and then he looks down at the growling Houndoom. ‘Look, there’s a place. A safe-house that Team Rocket use in town. He could be there, but I don’t know. And it’s very dangerous for you to be around there – you should go to the police about these missing Pokémon. They’ll be able to help.’

‘They never find them,’ says Hwanwoong, echoing Dongju. ‘Tell us where to find the safe-house. We’ll take it from there.’

As soon as they are back out on the street, Houndoom starts to skip alongside Geonhak’s ankles and prods his nose at his pocket for treats. Geonhak takes out a handful and gives them to him one by one, until Houndoom is licking his hand resting his chin against his leg. Now that his mission is over, he’s no different to Growlithe, who hops down to the ground to beg for treats too. ‘ _Houndoom? His bark is worse than his bite_ ,’ Geonhak had scoffed when Seoho had suggested their method of intimidation. Seoho had winked. ‘ _We only need the bark_.’

With Skitty once again in charge of map reading, Hwanwoong is nervous that it will take them days to find the safe-house. The guide-book warns travellers against entering this part of town during the night, but with the festivities of the tournament in full swing, during the day-time it looks no different to any other. They find the address quite easily, however, pushing their way through the throng, but when Seoho begins to march up to the nondescript door, Geonhak grabs him by the jacket and hauls him back.

‘Are you crazy? That place could be full of Team Rocket agents! We can’t just walk in there and ask for RAVN!’

‘We’ll send in Hwanwoong.’

‘What?’ Hwanwoong says in a panic. Dongju holds his hand and squeezes it.

‘Seoho’s joking, Hwanwoong. You are joking… right?’

Seoho sighs and looks around. ‘We’ll have to hide out here until we see… a sign.’

They end up settling into a coffee shop opposite the safe-house, a little down the road, squeezing around one small table because getting a seat anywhere is almost impossible. Everyone else orders hot drinks but Hwanwoong just takes a soda and sips slowly at his can. His heart is pounding. The adrenaline has carried him through thus far, but now that they’ve sat down fear has started to crawl on his skin. Team Rocket are mere metres away.

Youngjo could be metres away.

They sit at the table for three hours. No one voices the fact that they don’t even know what they are waiting for. Do they think that Youngjo is going to walk out of the front door in the middle of the day? Or pass by the window on his way to the convenience store? Hwanwoong picks at the metal ring of his can and sighs. Even as the others chat about the upcoming competition, trying to make small talk, he cannot do anything but look out of the window. Dongju is silent, too. His knee jiggles up and down with nerves, and Hwanwoong knows what he’s thinking: that every minute they waste in here, Raichu is getting further and further away.

‘It feels wrong,’ whispers Dongju eventually. ‘Sitting here without my Pokémon like it’s nothing. Talking about the competition. All when Raichu is probably so afraid. Not just Raichu but all my Pokémon. My Raichu has never been apart from me since he was tiny. My squishy Pikachu. He must be so scared.’

Hwanwoong swallows and takes his hands. ‘It’s okay, Dongju. We’re going to find them. I’m sure that Raichu is safe inside his Poké Ball, surrounded by his home. He probably misses you but he knows that you’ll come to find him. We _will_ come to rescue them, Dongju, I promise.’

‘How do you know RAVN?’ he whispers. ‘I don’t understand.’

Hwanwoong has been waiting for this question and his cheeks turn red with shame. His involvement with a top agent of Team Rocket is not something that he is proud of. ‘I ran into him the first time in Busan City. My Growlithe bit him. And then I found him again in the national park. His Pokémon was very sick. I had to help.’

‘Why?’ asks Dongju, and there’s betrayal in his eyes.

‘Because it wasn’t her fault that she was sick.’

Dongju looks down at the table, and Hwanwoong can see that he is upset. Of course he’s upset. Team Rocket have taken his Pokémon and here is Hwanwoong, talking about helping them out.

‘I took her to the Pokémon Centre.’ He leaves out the part about Youngjo staying with them, sleeping in his bed, because he does not want to incriminate Seoho and Geonhak too and he does _not_ want Dongju to look at him with any more betrayal. ‘And Youngjo – RAVN – he’s owed me one ever since. He promised that he owed me a favour and I trust that.’ _I trust him_ , he thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud.

Dongju pushes his drink away and says nothing.

‘I know you’re mad,’ whispers Hwanwoong. ‘I’m sorry. But this could help us.’

Dongju just looks away.

Before Hwanwoong can go back to his can with a sigh, someone touches his shoulder, and he jumps before looking up. ‘Let’s go,’ says Youngjo.

 _Youngjo_.

He freezes.

Seoho and Geonhak look up from their conversation, mouths falling open. For a moment, Dongju does not seem to know what to make of it – he has never seen the agent before – and Youngjo is already dragging Hwanwoong up by the back of his jacket. Seoho makes to stand but Geonhak puts out a hand to stop him. Youngjo ignores the three of them, and tugs Hwanwoong by the collar towards the door. Hwanwoong shoots his friends a look of panic, but there is nothing to be done except to allow himself to be pulled out of the café.

His heart races. Sweat pools on his palms. ‘Youngjo - ’

‘Not here,’ says Youngjo through gritted teeth. ‘You shouldn’t have come here.’

‘I need - ’

‘ _Not here!_ ’

Hwanwoong is both relieved and alarmed that his friends have the faith not to follow him. Growlithe growls at his feet as he follows, but he does not bite again. Halfway down the street, Youngjo pushes Hwanwoong into a small gap between two buildings and he stumbles in the damp alley. He did not expect to be afraid during their reunion, but his heart pounds and fear turns his mouth dry. Was this a mistake? _Was the innkeeper right_?

‘Youngjo - ’

His split lip has healed but there is still a mark there. His dark hair is unwashed and falls in a mess around his face. ‘I saw you from the apartment three hours ago. It took me this long just to find an excuse to get away without arousing suspicion! What the hell were you thinking? How did you find this place?’ It’s obvious that Youngjo knows this is no coincidence.

‘I needed to find you,’ Hwanwoong gasps in a panic. ‘Please don’t me mad!’

‘Mad? I’m furious! You’re putting us both in danger.’

‘You _told_ me,’ he protests, ‘you told me that you owe me a favour!’

Youngjo’s angry face softens just a little. When his features aren’t so contorted, he looks different. With some proper meals and someone to soothe away the stress lines on his forehead, he could be so handsome. ‘And you told _me_ that you didn’t want anything from me. That you’d never need a favour from me.’ His lip curls up in the corner as he says it.

‘Things have changed.’

‘Yeo Hwanwoong,’ exhales Youngjo, and Hwanwoong hates that he likes the way it sounds when he says his name. ‘What have you got yourself mixed up in this time? You sure do like finding trouble, for such an innocent boy.’

Hwanwoong tilts his chin up. ‘I don’t find trouble. Trouble finds me!’

Youngjo definitely smiles. ‘Tell me, Hwanwoong. What do you need from me?’

‘Do you promise that you’ll help?’

‘I owe you a debt of life,’ sighs Youngjo. ‘Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.’

In this alley, the air dark around them despite evening being an hour away at least, Hwanwoong becomes aware that Youngjo is much taller than him. He looks down at him and Hwanwoong steps back until his back hits the wall. ‘You swear?’

‘I swear.’

‘Team Rocket – _your_ Team Rocket – have stolen my friend’s Pokémon.’

‘Which friend?’ says Youngjo, his voice dry. ‘One of your bodyguards?’

‘No,’ he huffs, ‘my new friend. Dongju.’

Youngjo turns away and rubs his face with his hands. As the reality of Hwanwoong’s words settles in, he says something under his breath that Hwanwoong doesn’t pick up, but he’s sure that it’s a curse. ‘Dammit, Hwanwoong. Couldn’t you have stayed out of trouble for five minutes?’

‘I _tried_!’

One hand pushes roughly through Youngjo’s knotted hair. He kneads his forehead and scratches at the stubble on his chin. He curses again, this time louder.

‘Can you help?’ whispers Hwanwoong.

Youngjo’s eyes fall closed and he rests on hand against the brick wall, over Hwanwoong’s shoulder. They’re very close together, so close that Hwanwoong can feel his breath on his face. Youngjo doesn’t seem to notice, exhaling shaky breaths and digging his nails into the dirty brickwork. His body is inches from Hwanwoong’s. ‘You understand that this puts us both at terrible risk?’

‘I know.’

‘You should send this Dongju to me and get yourself out of it.’

‘He’s my friend. My _friend_ , Youngjo!’

‘Fine,’ says Youngjo. ‘I’ll help you. I can help you. But it won’t be easy.’

‘Can’t you… just ask for the Pokémon back?’ Hwanwoong says in a small voice.

Youngjo laughs, but the sound is hollow. ‘You have no idea what you’re dealing with, Hwanwoong.’

‘But you’ll help us?’

‘I pay my debts, Hwanwoong. There is some honour amongst thieves.’

~

Dongju flatly refuses to be in the same room as Youngjo for even a minute. When they go back to the hotel, he disappears into Seoho and Geonhak’s room instead, and Hwanwoong is left alone with Youngjo. Outside of dark alleys and dense forests, the agent looks out of place. His clothes are too dirty and his eyes are too wary for the bright, clean hotel room. ‘We can talk here,’ says Hwanwoong. ‘Will… will they notice you’re gone?’

‘No,’ says Youngjo. ‘I’m not on an operation right now. If I’m gone for a couple of days they’ll just think that I’m out stealing Pokémon, making petty chaos. You know the kind of thing.’

‘Do you do that?’

‘No. I’m no grunt. But I’m supposed to. They might even be impressed.’

‘Do you want to get some dinner?’ suggests Hwanwoong. He knows that they should get down to business but Youngjo looks so thin.

Youngjo’s eyes flit to the bathroom. ‘I’d rather shower. Can I…?’

Hwanwoong nods. ‘Of course. I’ll get you some of Geonhak’s clothes to wear. Or Seoho’s. You’re less likely to be spotted by the police if you aren’t wearing all this black. They’ve never seen your face to recognise you.’

When Youngjo locks himself in the bathroom, Raven stays out in the bedroom with Hwanwoong. She paces the length of the room, and then jumps up onto the bed and plays with Growlithe. They roll over until they topple off the end of the bed and Hwanwoong smiles, watching them. At least their Pokémon get along. After a moment, the Umbreon jumps up again and lands on Hwanwoong’s lap. She places her paws against his chest and he feels a rush of dark energy.

Dark Pokémon like Geonhak’s Houndoom are very powerful.

‘Do you want treats?’ smiles Hwanwoong. He pulls a packet from his bag and opens it up. Growlithe buries his nose in the packet but Raven is more patient, waiting with calm eyes before taking piece by piece from his hand. When she has finished, she nibbles at his finger. There’s nothing _bad_ about dark energy. That’s what people don’t understand. When she rubs her head into his hand, he just feels warm.

‘She likes you,’ says Youngjo from the doorway.

Hwanwoong looks up and gulps. Youngjo is towelling his hair, dressed in sweats and a white tee from Geonhak. The look doesn’t suit him. Hwanwoong wants to laugh but he bites his lip. It’s just so _strange_ to see him like this. ‘I’m sure she remembers me from before,’ he says.

‘I feel stupid in these clothes.’

‘They’re sweats and a shirt,’ Hwanwoong does laugh this time.

‘They’re not me.’

Hwanwoong wonders whether the reason is that they make him look vulnerable. Younger. Taking away the leather leaves so much of his skin on show. ‘Tell me where we can find Dongju’s Pokémon,’ says Hwanwoong. He knows that it’s time for answers. ‘Where in the city?’

‘They won’t be here in the city,’ Youngjo shakes his head. ‘Stolen Pokémon are taken straight to our base in Jeju to be evaluated before they’re passed on or sold out. That’s when the agent gets signed off’

‘ _Jeju_?’

‘Our lab is there.’

‘We have to go to _Jeju_?’

‘You don’t have to. I’ll go alone.’

‘No. These are Dongju’s Pokémon. We’re coming.’

Youngjo sighs. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you can be a little infuriating?’

‘I’ve been called a _Totodile_ ,’ he says by way of an answer.

The bed depresses when Youngjo sits down beside him, and he leans forward to run his hands through his wet hair, elbows on his knees. His wrists are narrow – Hwanwoong could wrap his forefinger and thumb around them – and there is a tattoo on his bicep. He doesn’t ask what the strange logo means. All he can make out without staring is a snake Pokémon. ‘I really, really don’t want to take you there.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I’ll worry about you the whole time and I don’t need to be distracted.’

 _Worry about you_. The words spin round and round in Hwanwoong’s skull. ‘Why would you worry about me?’

‘Because you’re not supposed to be around people like me, like them. You’re not built for it like I am.’

‘How are you built? What’s the difference?’

Youngjo sighs. ‘If they think you care, they’ll use it against you. Like a weapon. And you care so much, about everything, about everyone. Even me. Which you shouldn’t, by the way.’

‘Who said I care about you?’

‘This is the second time you’ve brought me in out of the cold, Hwanwoong.’

Hwanwoong plays with the ears of the Umbreon in his lap. ‘I don’t think that you don’t care. I think you tell yourself that you don’t, but that doesn’t mean you don’t. I don’t think you’re built for Team Rocket either. Maybe no one is.’

‘You’re wrong,’ says Youngjo, and he doesn’t elaborate.

‘How did you end up here, Youngjo? Why do you work with them?’

Youngjo looks down at the floor and picks at a bobble on his new sweats. ‘I didn’t have a choice. Most of us didn’t.’

‘Tell me,’ implores Hwanwoong.

At first, Youngjo does not say anything. He picks and picks at loose threads, before rubbing his hands up and down his cold arms and hunching his feet up onto the bed in a position that makes him look very small. Then, eventually: ‘My father borrowed a lot of money. He had a problem. Gambling. He managed to stay afloat for a long time but he just borrowed more and more. He couldn’t pay the debtors back. And they sell off debts to Team Rocket, because Team Rocket know that they can collect.’

‘I don’t - ’

‘They collected me,’ says Youngjo, and there’s a look in his eyes that says he both pities and envies Hwanwoong’s naivety.

‘You mean they – they took you?’

‘To pay off my father’s debt. Yes. And I can’t leave until I’ve paid every penny.’

‘How much?’

‘More than I’ll ever have in my life.’

‘But then that means that you’ll be stuck like this forever!’

Youngjo gives him a small, empty smile. ‘Now you see how it works.’

He splutters in outrage at the unfairness of it all. ‘Can’t you run away?’

‘What do you think they’d do to my parents then, hm?’ he raises his eyebrows. ‘It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m not fragile like you. They won’t break me. I’ve been doing this for years. It’s hard, you know, it’s hard as hell. But I’m fine.’

‘Well I’m not fragile either! I survived the Poképox when I was just a kid, even though it kills people much older than that! And I’m going to go to Jeju with you and we’ll get Dongju’s Pokémon back. And _then_ we’ll find a way to get you out of Team Rocket.’

Youngjo laughs and shakes his head. ‘There’s no way out.’

‘Yes there is. You just said it. All we have to do is pay your debts!’

‘It’s too much.’

‘We’ll find a way,’ he says, and he means it. The words are serious as the grave. ‘I’m resourceful. You’re resourceful. We’ll find a way.’

‘You’re very kind, Hwanwoong,’ he says and he pats his knee, ‘but first we need to find a way for all of us to get to Jeju.’

‘Can’t we just get a plane?’

‘Team Rocket track the flight manifests,’ he rolls his eyes, ‘Jeju is the home of their biggest operation in the continent. Everything on the island is tracked. And besides, I don’t have identification. I can’t just get on a plane. No. The safest way is across the water.’

‘Across the water?’

‘We can pay a fisherman at the coast or - ’

‘No need!’ interrupts Hwanwoong in excitement. He wants to prove to Youngjo that he _is_ resourceful. ‘I know someone who can get us across the water. And he might not be the worst person to have with us. He’s dealt with Team Rocket before.’

‘And who would that be?’ a smile creeps onto Youngjo’s face.

‘Lee Keonhee, Water trainer!’ he announces.

‘You’ve made friends in high places, Yeo Hwanwoong. I’m impressed.’

A pink flush floods across Hwanwoong’s cheeks before he can stop it.

~

‘I want to go now!’ whines Dongju.

‘I agree with Keonhee,’ says Youngjo in a murmur. He is stood close to Hwanwoong’s ear so the sound is clear. They’re waiting close to the beach, watching the sun set with an orange glow. There are people on the beach, still, enjoying the spring air and laughing with drinks and music. The sky turns dark blue and pink and the moon is already visible. Though it is only spring, there are no clouds out tonight.

‘I don’t care what you think,’ snaps Dongju.

The last day has been uncomfortable. Dongju all but refuses to speak to Youngjo unless it is to snap at him. Every time that they are at close quarters, Hwanwoong can feel the bristling of dislike and irritation. It was a long bus ride to find Keonhee, and an even longer one down to the coast. ‘Keonhee is right,’ says Youngjo, unphased. ‘It would be dangerous to cross the water at night. We’ll wait ‘til morning.’

‘Yours aren’t the Pokémon that have been stolen! You have no idea! This is all your fault!’

‘Come on, Dongju,’ says Geonhak, ‘you can’t say that this is Youngjo’s fault.’

‘He’s one of them! And you’re all acting like he’s our _friend_!’ Dongju shouts, and then he storms away. As he goes, Hwanwoong sees him wiping his eyes with angry fists. Geonhak chases after him, but Seoho and Keonhee stay behind.

‘Youngjo…’ starts Hwanwoong, but Youngjo shakes his head.

‘It’s okay. He’s right to be angry.’

‘Well it doesn’t help us for him to kick off,’ says Keonhee. ‘At the very least, we need to work together.’

Out of all of them, Keonhee’s response has surprised him the most. Given his previous run-ins with Team Rocket, and his upstanding, well-respected position in the community, Hwanwoong had expected him to react very badly to their alliance with the agent. However, enthused by the prospect of taking on Team Rocket again, Keonhee had just grinned. ‘ _So you’re some kind of renegade_?’ he’d said with an air of excitement in his voice. ‘ _I love that_.’

‘Do you think that your Lapras _could_ make it across the water at night?’ asks Hwanwoong.

‘Oh for sure,’ shrugs Keonhee, ‘these waters are where she grew up. And where the two of us met. The crossing isn’t a long one but it’s risky at night. One of you could lose your grip and it would be harder to find you in the dark water, plus it’s much colder at night. She isn’t used to travelling with so many riders.’

‘Can she carry all six of us?’

‘I don’t know. She hasn’t carried so many before.’

‘Five,’ says Youngjo, ‘I can ride my Mantine.’

‘You have a Mantine?’ Hwanwoong swivels around to face him. It’s the first time that he has mentioned any other Pokémon.

‘How do you think I was planning on crossing when I was going to come alone?’ Youngjo gives him a smile. The late evening sunset marries the white glow of the moon to glance from his pointed cheekbones.

Keonhee leans over. ‘Do you think your Mantine can carry two? I know Lapras will be fine with four.’ He glances at Hwanwoong who raises his eyebrows, but then he realises the implication of the question. _Oh_. Of course. He would be the one riding with Youngjo.

Youngjo looks at him too. ‘I’d think so. But it wouldn’t be as nice a trip as with Lapras,’ he adds in a warning tone. ‘It’ll be wet, and cold.’

‘I can do it,’ Hwanwoong puffs his chest out. ‘No problem!’

Inside, though, he is nervous. He’s already been plunged into the water once, recently, and he knows that it’s putting his health at risk. His mind drifts to what his mother would say, and he remembers that he needs to call her. What would she say about him standing shoulder to shoulder with a Team Rocket agent? The thought of shivering in his wet clothes makes him tremble, but then he thinks about Raichu and Dongju’s other Pokémon, trapped alone in the Team Rocket Jeju lab.

‘There’s plenty of moonlight,’ says Youngjo, nodding up to the sky. ‘It wouldn’t be too difficult to navigate. Maybe if Dongju _is_ so adamant then…’

They all turn around as Geonhak re-emerges from the low light with Dongju in tow. The coastal town behind them is beginning to switch on bedroom lights and little boxes of yellow shine in a grid behind them. ‘Let’s go and find somewhere to stay,’ says Geonhak, when he reaches them.

A glance at Dongju fills Hwanwoong with guilt that isn’t his to bear. His eyes are red and puffy.

‘Youngjo and I think we can make it across the water,’ says Keonhee in a brusque voice. ‘If everyone is willing to take the risk.’

Dongju’s eyes perk up at this and he looks through tear-clumped lashes from each of them to the others, ignoring only Youngjo. ‘I’m willing!’ he says right away without hesitating.

Seoho and Geonhak nod too. ‘We like a bit of adventure,’ shrugs Seoho. ‘Besides, every minute counts.’

The planning for their crossing takes mere minutes, and mainly involves cramming anything valuable into the waterproof compartments of their bags and returning their other Pokémon to their Poké Balls. Hwanwoong reassures Growlithe that he will be much happier inside, before Youngjo pulls him aside. He takes him by the hand, and Hwanwoong jumps at the feeling of his rough fingertips grazing his skin.

‘I want you to put this on,’ says Youngjo, slipping his leather jacket from his shoulders.

‘I have a coat,’ Hwanwoong replies automatically. His skin feels very hot where Youngjo has touched it.

‘This,’ Youngjo lifts the hem of his jacket, ‘will absorb every fleck of water that touches you. Come on, put this on. And you’ll ride on the inside, underneath.’

‘Underneath?’ Hwanwoong squeaks.

‘Underneath me,’ he rolls his eyes. ‘I’ll take the worst of the water on the outside.’

The full gravity of what they are going to do settles on his shoulders and he shudders, but nods. The sea temperature will not have warmed up yet in spring, and while the others crowd around Keonhee’s Lapras at the shore, Youngjo’s Mantine looks much smaller by comparison. Still, he thinks, the Pokémon looks friendly. A sort of smile hovers on its face and its long antennae drift in the evening breeze. The expanse of dark blue on its back looks big enough, but when Hwanwoong remembers that he and Youngjo both have to ride, he gulps.

‘Take these out,’ murmurs Youngjo, very close to his ear again, and Hwanwoong almost jumps out of his skin. ‘They’ll get wet.’

Embarrassed, Hwanwoong blinks at him. His hands fly up to cover his ears, self-conscious. He hadn’t noticed that Youngjo had noticed. ‘But I won’t be able to - ’

‘It’s fine,’ says Youngjo. Before Hwanwoong even senses what he is doing, Youngjo reaches up and brushes the loose strands of his hair up over his cupped hands, behind his ears, and goose-bumps spill over Hwanwoong’s skin. He’s sure that Youngjo will see him turning scarlet, but he hopes that the night air is dark enough to cover it. ‘You can put them back at the other end.’

Slowly, Hwanwoong nods. He bites his lip as he takes out his hearing aids and returns them to their safe case, and all of a sudden as the world turns muffled he feels more vulnerable than he ever has in Youngjo’s presence before. It feels like taking off a part of his armour.

He gives Seoho, Geonhak, Keonhee and Dongju a salute as they wait atop the Lapras, and she pushes away from the shoreline out into the open water. Even when they are mere metres away, he feels very alone. Without his friends. With only Youngjo, and he isn’t quite sure whether Youngjo is his friend or not.

Hwanwoong climbs onto the back of the Mantine first, wading knee deep into the water, and he starts to shake when he rests his hands down onto the smooth fins; there seems to be nothing to grip. Soon enough, though, Youngjo follows behind him, and he wraps his arms under Hwanwoong’s, like he’s going to hold him by his waist. Hwanwoong wishes that he would. Instead, Youngjo closes his hands on the long fins, beside Hwanwoong’s. His thumbs even brush Hwanwoong’s fingers.

Though the cold water has sent a chill through his body already, he feels safer with Youngjo’s warm body pressed against his. Where Youngjo is taller, his chest presses against his upper back and he can feel his breathing against his cheek. Hwanwoong doesn’t think that he’s ever been held so close against anyone before.

Perhaps to his benefit, though, he does not have time to think about it when Mantine kicks off into the open water.

His heart sits at the bottom of his throat, blocking a scream, because the Mantine moves _fast_. It crashes through the water with a kind of chaotic grace, and with every ebb and flow Hwanwoong is sure that he’ll be plunged beneath the surface, but after a while he realises that they seem to be gliding rather than swimming. The Mantine skims the surface like skipping stones. Burying his head down to keep the seafoam from his eyes, Hwanwoong wonders how far ahead his friends are. The water droplets that hit his face are cold, but with the exception of his calves and ankles his body stays remarkably dry.

When their speed levels out, he dares to look up. The moonlight dresses the waves with white caps, and they rise and fall with the swell. In the distance at each rise he can just spot the head of Lapras as she cleaves a path through the sea. All that he can hear is a low, constant rush, and it could be the muted sound of the sea or it could be the blood in his head. If Youngjo says anything to him, then he can’t hear it. He closes his eyes and gives into the sensation of gliding.

He’s cold.

Very cold.

But in a way that helps.

There’s a strange feeling of euphoria in moving at such speed across the water like this. The cool night air hits his face with an invigorating rush and the quiet is almost soothing. Steadily he straightens up, and he feels Youngjo move with him, adjusting to the new position. He breathes in the cool air and exhales with a shaky breath that could be fear but it feels more like a laugh. If he were braver, he would stretch out his arms, but he’s not. Instead he keeps his fingers vice-like on the smooth fins.

The crossing feels like a lifetime and a single moment all at once.

By the time that they come close to the island shore, his body aches from tension that he hadn’t realised he was exerting. His thighs and calves are sore from clinging to the Pokémon’s back, and when he unclenches his fingers his forearms and shoulders ache. Mantine slows down with the beach in sight, and Hwanwoong dares to lift one hand and wave to the beach. The moonlight illuminates his friends, who are already standing on the sand. Seoho jumps up and down.

Despite the strange thrill of the crossing, Hwanwoong is relieved when Mantine slides up onto a sheet of sand and suddenly Hwanwoong can feel solid ground again. Relatively solid. His feet slip and slide when he stands but it is good enough. When he stumbles, Youngjo catches his waist and helps him to stand back up. Legs like jelly, he staggers over to his friends.

‘Can you believe it?’ shouts Seoho.

‘I can’t believe we survived,’ says Geonhak, and Hwanwoong has to read the words on his lips because his voice is so much softer. ‘Especially you.’

Keonhee claps a hand down on Youngjo’s shoulder, and Hwanwoong is relieved to see that someone is glad Youngjo survived too. The two of them exchange words. Lapras and Mantine are swimming around each other in circles in the water.

When he tries to speak, Hwanwoong realises that his teeth are chattering. The night spring air clings to his damp jeans and crawls up his skin, even under the warmth of Youngjo’s jacket that is still pulled over his own. When he reaches for his hearing aids, his fingers are shaking so much that he can’t work the catch on the case. The ethereal sensation of being out on the water has been replaced by the reality of being wet and cold. Exhausted. Drained. He coughs, and Youngjo is the first beside him even before Seoho.

‘Find us - ’ Youngjo starts, but Hwanwoong loses track of the rest of his words.

He feels dizzy.

The thought strikes him that he has been awake for a very long time. Everything seems so long ago – the hotel, the innkeeper, their bus rides. The last proper night of sleep that he got must have been much more than a day ago. Dozing on the shuttle does not count. His limbs are stiff and achy and he longs to sit down but Dongju’s Pokémon are somewhere here. They cannot stop now. He takes a step forward on wobbling legs but they start to give out from beneath him. Aware of voices but unable to make them out, he brings his attention back to his breathing.

Realising that his breath is coming in short gasps, he puts one hand on his chest.

Another step forward and he loses all grip on which way is up and which is down. He falls, but someone catches him.

Youngjo.

His arms are around his waist and he lowers him down to the sand so gently that it’s hard to believe that it’s the hard-edged agent he knew at all. The sky spins above him in a kaleidoscope of stars and the shifting blur of a white moon. For a moment he’s acutely aware that his head is in Youngjo’s lap, and Seoho’s face appears in his kaleidoscope painted vividly with a frantic expression, and then before he even closes his eyes everything has turned to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)
> 
> thank you so much to all who left comments on the last chapter <3 <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! It’s me! I like this chapter a lot so I hope you like it too ^-^ Thank you so much for the awesome comments last chapter <3

A dull throbbing radiates from his temple to the back of his skull, and if it’s the pain that wakes him then Hwanwoong wonders how he slept for the hours before. His eyes ache when he turns them beneath his closed lids. There is no sound at all but he’s aware of warmth against his side, as well as low hot breath on his hand. That must be Growlithe. His hand finds the familiar fur and he strokes through it for comfort, unwilling to open his eyes yet when he knows that the light will burn. His chest is weighed down with the sensation of something very heavy.

When he can resist catching up on the world no longer, his eyes flicker open and he sucks in a deep breath. Within a second, he is coughing, and Seoho’s head appears in his vision. He says something, but Hwanwoong does not have the strength to watch his lips.

He coughs again, a hacking cough that makes his shoulders shake.

Seoho rubs his back and Geonhak wanders into the frame of his sight too with a large glass of water. Hwanwoong pushes it away in frustration, grabbing the case for his hearing aids from the white nightstand beside him. The room is unfamiliar but Hwanwoong is so used to waking up in strange rooms now that it feels more familiar than his old bedroom.

His room back home was small but brought to life by the many years that he had spent locked between its four walls. Pinned up on every surface there had been posters from some of the national and international Pokémon Leagues, and on the desk there were mugs in the shape of Poké Balls and Pikachu stationery that he’d used for the school-work that he completed at home. His mind scans through a tour of the room as he tries to bring himself back to the present, but he is so focused on the past that he can feel the scratchy floorboards beneath his feet and smell the scent of dinner cooking from downstairs. For the first time since he was left alone in Busan City, he wishes that he were back home.

‘Hwanwoongie?’ Seoho’s voice and sound rushes back.

He adjusts his aids and in his mind’s eye wanders the distance to the pin board above his desk in his childhood bedroom. There is a Torchic calendar that he tore from the back of a magazine, and a collection of trading cards in a plastic wallet hanging from a silver pin. Science charts and a reminder of his Literature reading for the year are buried underneath layers and layers of ticket stubs that his father bought for him online, from all of the tournaments in South Korea.

In his memory he grazes his fingers over a faded poster of Kim Dongwon, one of the victors at the National League during the 90s. His Pokémon are animated around him in bright colours that have been worn away by time. Blastoise, Crobat, Ampharos and an Umbreon, the paper faded to grey on its fur. The version of himself in his memory stares, and stares, and then he blinks himself back to reality.

‘Hwanwoongie? You have a fever,’ says Seoho in a worried voice. His hand presses to Hwanwoong’s forehead.

He tries to sit up but the room spins. ‘Where is Youngjo?’ he asks, not questioning that this is the first thing to come from his lips.

The memories of the crossing to Jeju come tumbling back and he looks around the spinning room. It has the clean, generic air of a Pokémon Centre.

‘He went with Dongju and Keonhee to do some reconnaissance on the lab.’

Hwanwoong makes to swing his legs out of the bed but Seoho grabs them and hauls them back onto the mattress.

‘Oh no you don’t!’

‘Dongju is with them?’ His heart thuds against his chest and he coughs again as his lungs constrict. Keonhee and Youngjo, he knows, can take care of themselves, but the thought of Dongju facing up to Team Rocket without even his Pokémon to protect him fills him with dread. ‘It’s not safe!’

Geonhak joins Seoho in manhandling him back under the covers. ‘Keonhee and Youngjo will look out for him. He’ll be fine.’

‘Why are you two here? You should be with them!’

Seoho rolls his eyes. ‘We’re here to look after you, silly. You’ve been doing too much, Woong. You’ve got sick.’

There is no point in arguing, or protesting, because the coughs that keep taking over his speech are evidence enough that Seoho is right. His vulnerable immune system is shot. He ought to have been more careful, but how could he when there was so much at stake? When there still is? He sniffs and rubs his sore eyes, remembering the moment of euphoria out on the water before arriving on the beach. If he strains his recollection then he can recall feeling woozy, losing his balance, but little else. ‘I can’t just sit around here doing nothing,’ he whispers, ‘we have to get to Raichu and the others!’

‘We’ll see how you feel tomorrow,’ says Seoho, but Hwanwoong has the suspicion that he’s just delaying the inevitable argument for another day. ‘Geonhak and I checked us in here, as far as anyone knows we’re just tourists taking advantage of the island while everyone else is in Daegu. Keonhee and Youngjo and Dongju have set up camp a little inland, closer to the location of the base.’

‘So Dongju and Youngjo are getting along?’ he asks in a small voice.

Seoho shrugs. ‘Dongju knows that Youngjo is the only chance he has of getting his Pokémon back. And Keonhee is there to act as mediator.’

He imagines the three of them, huddled somewhere on the island, perhaps hidden by a green patch of foliage watching the lab below. In his imagination the Team Rocket HQ is like a lab from a cartoon, pumping out green smoke into the air and surrounded by tall electrified fences. The guards, he imagines, patrol the border gates with Poochyena and Houndoor. Whether the reality is any different, he might never know, because Seoho and Geonhak are acting as much like his bodyguards as Youngjo always says.

Flopping back against the pillow, he sniffles miserably.

 _Every time_.

Ever since he first fell sick, all those years ago, his life has followed this ceaseless cycle. Whenever he gets close to achieving something or being a part of something, he gets sick again. It’s not fair. He grabs at the blankets and pulls them over his head until he’s in a cocoon of darkness where nothing else can touch him. The light glows red through the blanket and he blinks up at it, caught in thoughts. His skin is very hot.

He used to hide like this, too, in his childhood bedroom. He’d take out his hearing aids and shut off the outside world, ignore everything going on around him because what was the point in paying attention when he could never be a part of it all?

In an exercise that had always worked well then, he runs through a live action replay of one of the championships he’d watched on television. He thinks about Kim Dongwon because the poster is still visible in his mind’s eye. During the final battle against the Champion, his Blastoise used a _Hydro Pump_ that drenched the arena in the crowd with water. They’d screamed in excitement. Hwanwoong imagined how it would be to have a stadium shouting for you like that. To battle the Champion’s Alakazam, Kim Dongwon’s Umbreon had darted around the arena with an almost playful ease, like there was nowhere else in the world that she’d rather be.

Hwanwoong sits up and the blanket falls down. The movement is so abrupt that his tummy swills dangerously, but he’s already half out of bed again before Seoho and Geonhak can stop him.

~

‘Seoho told me that he’s thinking of assigning Skitty to keep an eye on you,’ says a voice, and Hwanwoong finally drags himself from his self-imposed isolation to roll over and pull down the covers again. He jumps when he sees Youngjo, a foot from the bed, a small smile playing on his lips. The window is open, thin white curtains drifting in the night-time breeze, and Hwanwoong has the suspicion that he scaled the side of the building to come in that way.

‘When did you talk to Seoho?’

‘An hour ago,’ he shrugs, ‘you’ve been knocked out.’

‘I have?’ Hwanwoong hadn’t noticed that he’d fallen asleep.

‘Mmhm,’ Youngjo sits down on the bed and the mattress sinks a little. Not enough for his height, and Hwanwoong reminds himself to make sure that Youngjo eats something substantial while he’s here with him.

‘Not Skitty,’ Hwanwoong groans and he grabs his pillow to hide his face. It is at least partly out of embarrassment, because he knows that he probably looks terrible: red-nosed, sniffly, eyes watery, sweat on his forehead from the fever that has only just started to break. ‘Anything but Skitty.’

Youngjo, meanwhile, looks like he has spent the day at the beach rather than hiding out to spy on the base. His hair is windswept and his eyes are bright as anything. ‘Then you need to stop trying to get out of bed,’ he says. There’s a softness in his voice that Hwanwoong has never heard before. It makes him wonder what Youngjo was like before Team Rocket. Softly spoken? Gentle? When did he mask it all to become RAVN? ‘You’re sick.’

‘This is so embarrassing,’ whines Hwanwoong.

‘No, it’s not.’ Youngjo brushes the damp hair back from Hwanwoong’s forehead and then sighs. ‘You should’ve taken the Lapras-Express.’

‘I liked our ride.’ Hwanwoong looks down at his hands. ‘Besides, I definitely got sick before then.’

‘I’m sure it was my fault.’

Hwanwoong wants to argue with him but he starts coughing again, and has to sit up to turn to the side. He jumps when Youngjo’s hand soothes his back. ‘What did you find during the reconnaissance?’ He asks, eyes streaming.

‘Not much more than what I expected. I’ve been to the lab many times. The guard is reduced, as many of the grunts are over in Daegu City for the competition. That will play to our advantage. A little surveillance reassured me that my codes for entry have not been changed, so breaching the perimeter ought not be difficult. The problem won’t be getting in, but getting out without being seen. Especially me. Team Rocket toes a line, with people like you, because if they start going around harming innocent citizens then no amount of corruption from the higher echelons of society is going to protect them. But if they catch me helping you out? You’ll never see me again.’

‘You can’t go,’ says Hwanwoong, ‘it’s too dangerous for you. You must tell us what to do, and we’ll be the ones to carry out the heist.’

‘I hope you’re not including yourself in that,’ Youngjo shakes his head, ‘you aren’t going anywhere. Anyway, I owe you for Raven’s life and that means that I will take whatever risk needs to be taken. Don’t worry about me.’

 _No._ Hwanwoong pushes down the blankets and crosses his legs, trying to focus as Growlithe jumps into his lap. Raven is prowling the room, launching from nightstand to dresser and then rolling on the bed. ‘I take it back. I take back what I asked you to do. I don’t want you to anymore.’

A smile twitches the corner of Youngjo’s lips and he lifts a hand to cup Hwanwoong’s cheek in another touch too gentle for the RAVN he met back in Busan. ‘I will not renege on a solemn oath.’

Becoming more and more aware that he’s not obstinate enough to win arguments with _any_ of them, Hwanwoong huffs and watches Raven again. Her reddish eyes are wide and inquisitive as she stalks a playful Growlithe across the bed. As he watches her delicate paws, he cannot stop himself from asking. However, looking Youngjo in the eye while he does so would be a step beyond his courage so he does not look back. ‘Youngjo, did you take this Pokémon from Kim Dongwon?’

The silence that follows is painfully long and Hwanwoong regrets ever opening his mouth. _Why_? Why did he ask that? Ever since he first met him, he’s been pushing away questions of how Youngjo acquired his powerful Pokémon, the Umbreon that seems to love him so much, but he is so sure that this is the same Pokémon from the TV. He just knows. And he knows how Team Rocket operates, and whether he likes it or not Youngjo will always be Team Rocket. Youngjo tugs at a loose piece of skin around his thumbnail before sighing, ‘no, I didn’t.’

‘Was she given to you by Team Rocket? Because I’m _sure_ she’s the same Pokémon. I don’t want to ask you Youngjo but I have to know.’

Youngjo shakes his head. ‘No.’

Raven nuzzles at Hwanwoong’s arm and he allows her to climb onto his thigh and prod her paws at his chest. ‘I’m just so sure.’

‘Dongwon is my father,’ says Youngjo.

‘Oh.’

 _Oh_.

He curses himself and buries his heads in his hands, ashamed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m _sorry_.’

‘For what?’

‘I shouldn’t have doubted you.’

Youngjo sighs again. ‘You weren’t wrong. She is the same Pokémon. It was a fair leap to make.’

‘I couldn’t not recognise her,’ he mumbles. ‘She was so brilliant at that Championships.’

‘You must have been a baby,’ Youngjo rolls his eyes, ‘how do you know these tournaments so well?’

Hwanwoong drops his hands and meets his eyes again at last. ‘I wasn’t allowed to go to school, Youngjo, I didn’t have friends. I spent a _lot_ of time watching old VHS tapes. I’ve watched them all, everything. Over and over.’

‘That’ll help you become a good trainer,’ he says, then he leans back, hands splayed on the bed, and looks up at the ceiling. ‘My father lost all of his Pokémon when his gambling got out of control. Only Raven was left so he passed her onto me before anybody could take her. She’s been with me ever since. She’s the one thing that I have left from my family.’

Hwanwoong imagines the Kim Dongwon from the arena and tries to picture him spiralling into the terrible addiction, but it’s impossible. Dongwon was so triumphant. He was so full of vitality and surrounded by adoring fans, so flush with love for his Pokémon and his young family. Perhaps he just does not want to imagine it. Then, as he plays with Raven’s ears absentmindedly, he realises that she is a very, very powerful Pokémon. Not just powerful. One of the best.

‘I don’t know your friend, Dongju,’ says Youngjo, ‘maybe I never will, because he won’t share a word with me. But I know that I’d die to get Raven back if she was taken from me. So I will go to the lab, and I will get his Pokémon back for him, I promise. It’s not just about my debt to you. I can’t… what Team Rocket is… I hate it, Hwanwoong. I’d give anything to crush it all until its foundations are dust. And I can’t. But I can do this one thing.’

Holding his gaze, Hwanwoong nods.

How can he beg Youngjo not to take the risk when he himself cannot stop pleading with them all to let him go too?

~

It is two days later that Youngjo decides that they can make a move. Dongju has been complaining that everything is taking too long and it’s understandable but it makes Youngjo’s head throb with a migraine having to listen to his constant badgering of Keonhee from two metres away. Ideally, he would prefer to have more time, because surveillance is the most important stage of any mission, but he knows that Pokémon do not always stay in the lab for long before they are shipped out, and if they wait around any longer then it might already be too late.

There are windows of time in which he knows they can profit. This building in their network, which sprawls across the island, is not especially well guarded compared to some of the others. No one who did not already know it was there would go looking for it – they wouldn’t know where to start – and they have enough officials on their side, paid handsomely, that there is little interference from the local authorities. The guard that does patrol the perimeter takes a break once every four hours, for fifteen minutes, and though he’s supposed to keep a look-out from his cabin, Youngjo has observed that he usually puts a video on his phone and doesn’t glance up even once.

Once inside, things will be more difficult.

Not only do they have to find the storage facility without being apprehended, but within the room they’ll have to find Dongju’s Pokémon. It won’t be easy. He kneads his forehead and watches the guard walk the perimeter again, through a pair of brand new binoculars that Keonhee paid for.

A seasonal shower has left the ground spongey underfoot, a good thing to mask their movements, but they risk slipping when they descend the bank down to the lab. The building is constructed in a sort of crater, to reduce the risk of anyone passing unnoticed; exactly what they are trying to do. And he has more problems to deal with, like the problem of Hwanwoong, who has recovered enough from his illness to follow them on today’s excursion. He’s so close behind Youngjo that his chin practically rests on his shoulder.

He understands why Seoho calls him a Totodile. It’s difficult to stop him from wandering off of his own volition, and even harder to make him listen to what you say. He’s stalwart, more stubborn than he gives himself credit for, and while it frustrates him, it also makes Youngjo smile. It doesn’t help that Raven likes him, and seeing the two of them together makes his heart do strange things in his chest.

As evening draws in, Youngjo can put it off no longer. He sits back on his heels, and then stands and pulls Hwanwoong by the jacket away from the others.

‘Hey!’

‘You need to go back to the Pokémon Centre now.’

‘I’m not going anywhere!’ Hwanwoong tilts his chin up. His nose is still a little red and dry from the time spent buried in tissues.

‘You have to meet me halfway, Hwanwoong.’ He tries to keep his voice steady. ‘I’ve let you join the surveillance, and now it’s time to go. Don’t argue with me.’

‘I will argue with you! I’m here. I’m going to help!’

As Youngjo looks him up and down, he can’t help but think about how small Hwanwoong is. Easily crushable by some of the Team Rocket grunts that he knows. His muddy sneakers have the outlines of Pokémon drawn on them in black _Sharpie_ pen. ‘Don’t.’

‘Why can’t I come?’

He’s so _frustrating_. ‘Because it’s too dangerous.’

‘You’re all letting Dongju go and he’s younger than me!’ Hwanwoong says sharply. His voice turns harder than usual.

‘It’s not about age.’

‘So what? You think I’m weak?’

‘I don’t think you’re weak at all,’ he says softly. ‘It’s not about that.’

‘Then what’s it about? Dongju doesn’t even have his Pokémon to protect him!’

Youngjo bites his tongue to stop himself snapping that he’d be happier if he and Keonhee could go alone. ‘Dongju has to come _because_ they are his Pokémon. I’d have to chain him to a tree to stop him. You, meanwhile - ’

‘Meanwhile what?’

Youngjo runs a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t want you there.’

‘You won’t tell me why!’

‘I’ve told you before. I don’t want you there because I’ll spend the whole time looking over my shoulder, worrying about you. Not because you’re weak. Not because you’re young. Because you’re the only person here that I care about and when you care - ’ his voice falters, ‘ – when you care, that puts you at risk. Team Rocket eat up people who care. You’ll make me vulnerable.’ He does not take his eyes from Hwanwoong’s, even though his cheeks are burning and he wishes that he could look away. ‘Do you understand? You’re putting _me_ in danger, as well as yourself.’

It hurts him, to be so harsh. It hurts him to put this burden on Hwanwoong’s shoulders. But it’s the only way that he can stop him.

Hwanwoong’s teeth worry his lip and he looks down at the ground. ‘But - ’

‘No.’

By some miracle, Hwanwoong does not argue again.

Youngjo returns to the group, huddling with Keonhee to work out more of their strategy. They have figured out escape plans, plans for eventualities in which they become separated, plans for what will happen if one of them is captured. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Hwanwoong moping, muttering something to Seoho, but he just shakes his head and tries to concentrate.

‘What happens if you’re recognised?’ asks Keonhee.

‘I won’t be,’ says Youngjo, holding up the black scarf that he’ll use to hide the lower half of his face. It’s a lie, in part. There is a very good chance that someone, somewhere down the line will make a connection, but he knows that the surveillance cameras in the lab are out of date and dusty, the images blurred and unusable. Team Rocket never upgrades their equipment. So long as he does not reveal his Pokémon, then there is no reason for anyone to suspect him in the future. Some grunt would have been more likely to have been bought off to help them gain access.

There is a chance that if they can make it in and out without being detected, no one will even notice that the Pokémon are gone. They’re shipped out in batch and there’s always the chance for computer error.

He knows that he’s twisting his mind into complex scenarios to avoid the harsh reality that this could spell the end of him, but he does not want to see any clearer. For the first time in a long time he feels the good kind of adrenaline in his veins. For the first time, he’s surrounded by people who feel like a team, even Dongju. They’re almost like friends.

‘But if you are - ’

‘Don’t worry about me,’ says Youngjo. ‘I can take care of myself.’

‘If it happens, then we won’t just let them… do whatever Team Rocket does with traitors. You know that right? We’ll come and rescue you.’

Youngjo laughs and shakes his head. ‘I mean it, Keonhee. You don’t have to worry.’

At the clearing of a throat, they both look around, and Seoho is standing with an expectant look on his face.

‘What is it?’

Seoho nods over at Hwanwoong, who is determinedly not looking their way. ‘Hwanwoong is going to stay here on the bank to keep watch.’

‘No,’ Youngjo grits out.

‘Look, he’ll be completely safe up here,’ Seoho drops his voice, ‘and he wants to be involved.’

‘Wants to be involved?’ Youngjo says in a tone so frustrated that he can’t hold back the hiss. ‘This isn’t a game, Seoho!’

‘He thinks we’re treating him like a baby, Youngjo. And I’ll leave Skitty to keep an eye on him. He’ll be safe.’

‘No, we need that Skitty with us. She’s a sharp little thing – she could come in useful.’

‘We can’t just send him back to the Pokémon Centre,’ he whispers, ‘it’s not fair. It’s thanks to him that we’re even here with you.’

Youngjo’s headache throbs again behind his right eye. ‘ _Fine_. Fine.’ He stalks over to Hwanwoong with a look of irritation, and the boy refuses to meet his eyes, prodding at the grass with his foot. ‘I can’t believe you,’ he mutters, and though his face is downturned he’s sure that he can see the guilty look past his lashes. ‘You just don’t take no for an answer.’

‘Look, it’s a good idea,’ says Hwanwoong and he looks up. A combative expression has overtaken his eyes. ‘I can keep watch, sound the alarm if something goes wrong. And I’ll be completely safe.’

 _Completely safe_ , that’s what they all keep saying. The naivety of it all makes Youngjo want to send them all back to the mainland. They might not be teenagers anymore but they may as well be kids for the way they look at Team Rocket, like it’s all one big adventure. They have no idea what they’re messing with. They haven’t seen the things that Youngjo has seen. They haven’t watched what Team Rocket are capable of. ‘Here,’ he says, taking a Poké Ball from his bag and holding it out.

‘I have my own Pokémon.’

‘Your Pokémon are like you, Hwanwoong. Strong at heart but small, and inexperienced.’

‘Is it Raven?’ says Hwanwoong with wide eyes.

‘No. This is the best protector that I can leave with you. He’s fierce. And dangerous. He won’t let anyone come near you. He’d kill if needs be.’

Hwanwoong gulps. ‘Okay.’

Parting with one of his Pokémon leaves Youngjo feeling like he’s left one of his limbs behind, but he swallows down the heavy feeling in his throat and chest and turns away. ‘It’s time,’ he says, and the others all turn to face him. Keonhee, Seoho, Geonhak and Dongju, who has Geonhak’s Houndoom at his side for his protection. Youngjo’s other Pokémon will be remaining firmly in his bag – there would be no greater risk of being recognised than if Raven were to start wandering the laboratory. ‘Let’s go.’

They leave behind everything that they can afford to leave, before Seoho and Geonhak go to say goodbye to Hwanwoong.

Immediately, the atmosphere has changed.

Dongju is chewing his fingernails and Youngjo imagines that he feels more nervous than any of them. Keonhee is pacing, but his face is resolute, prepared for whatever lies ahead. Not for the first time, Youngjo thinks that he and Keonhee would be good friends if they were in different circumstances.

With the four of them following behind, Youngjo heads to the bank. He does not look over his shoulder for a parting glance at Hwanwoong, even though if they are caught, this may be the last time that he ever sees him. Looking back is dangerous, and it would mean that he cares far too much.

~

They might have all said that the laboratory was too dangerous, but Hwanwoong can’t help but think that it feels more scary being left out here alone.

The treeline is close behind him and he has the constant crawling sensation on the back of his neck that he is being watched or stalked. Even though Growlithe paces around him, he wishes that there was another human present just so that he would have someone to talk to. Night falls quickly, a blanket of black that makes it difficult to pick out his friends as they traverse the distance to the lab, tiny dots moving across the land from his elevated position.

The fenced perimeter is simple, chain-link, and there are yellow lamps set at every few metres apart. Youngjo’s binoculars are pressed so tight to Hwanwoong’s eyes that he’s sure they’ll leave rings on his skin, but it makes him feel millimetres closer to his friends. Every once in a while, he scans over to the perimeter guard, checking that he’ll leave for his break at the same time as usual. Concentrating helps him to ignore the way that the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

His breathing is shallow, even though he knows he is far from where anyone will hear him. He even finds himself holding it every once and a while, and has to remind himself to exhale and breathe in again. Anxiety knots his stomach and he feels nauseated, and also like he needs to run to the toilet every five minutes. He closes his eyes for a second and concentrates on bringing his body back into line. He needs to be brave like the others, else how can he ever expect to convince Youngjo that he doesn’t need to worry about him? He casts his mind to all of the times that Youngjo must have been left alone, afraid, and then he thinks of Dongju who is younger than him but marched down that hill with all of the courage in the world. He thinks of Seoho and Geonhak who did not even know Dongju or Youngjo until recently but are here to help without question. And he thinks of Keonhee, who he cannot imagine being afraid of anything.

‘Focus,’ he whispers aloud. He’s not even the one going to the lab. There’s no reason for him to be this afraid.

Being alone, with no one to talk to, though, makes it worse. Scenarios crash round and round in his head, all of the ways that his friends could be captured, all of the ways that they could fail. He can’t pick up on the quiet sounds from the trees and worry nags at him that it would be so easy for someone to sneak up behind him. Growlithe would alert him, he’s sure, but logical thoughts barely penetrate the fear.

Through the binoculars, he can see that his friends have passed through the perimeter and are slipping like ghosts or black cats across the shadowy courtyard. Moonlight illuminates them in intermittent patches as it slips in and out of the cover of clouds. Once they are inside the building, he will be able to track them no longer. How long will they be inside? Will Youngjo’s codes and Skitty’s tricks and Keonhee’s brash confidence be able to get them where they need to go?

Hwanwoong gnaws his lip. He’d lied, just a little, about how well he was feeling when they left this morning. In reality, his illness still weighs on his shoulders and he is almost certain that he has a chest infection to accompany his more manageable symptoms. It is not his first. He coughs and adjusts his position, sat on the grass, to try to alleviate some of the pressure on his chest.

At one point he swings around, sure that he’s heard something, but it could be a trick of his own mind. The dark trees stare back at him innocently. When he looks back to the courtyard, his friends have vanished, and his stomach flips over in worry. They must now be inside. Even though he could not have helped anyway, it is only now that he feels they are on their own. What waits for them, none of them know.

Just as he slides his legs out to settle in for a long wait, Growlithe barks. Just once. But it is enough to make him launch to his knees and then his feet, swivelling his head around. The trees still look unmoved, but Growlithe would not bark for nothing, not at a moment like this. Fear for his friends turns to paralysing fear for himself and he takes a step back. _Why_ couldn’t he have listened to Youngjo and gone back to the Pokémon Centre? He could be safe in bed right now.

 _Why_ , in fact, had he ever left home at all? The image of his childhood bedroom drifts back again.

From the trees emerges a slithering, spitting Pokémon. _Arbok_. It is so huge that Growlithe looks tiny in comparison, and when it rears upwards to full height it is taller, too, than Hwanwoong. His heart plummets to his stomach then leaps back up again and lodges in his throat. If this is a wild Arbok then he is in enough trouble, as they are ferociously territorial and he could be crushed to death in a second, but if the Arbok belongs to someone then it could be even worse.

He grabs the Poké Ball from his belt that contains Youngjo’s fiercest Pokémon, the one he’d promised would be able to take care of him. The purple hood around its face spreads wide and Hwanwoong stumbles in his haste to move backwards. The snake Pokémon lunges forward and he dodges away. Then, from those haunting black trees, emerges a man unmistakeable as a Team Rocket grunt.

He’s wearing grey, the red R of the team printed across his chest. Bleached blonde hair is cropped short and a sneering expression takes over his shrew-like features. ‘Well, who do we have here?’

This time, Hwanwoong doesn’t hesitate. A part of him is afraid to release the Pokémon, the Pokémon that Youngjo said could even kill, but he can hold off no longer. ‘Growlithe, get behind me!’ he shouts, before throwing the Poké Ball.

The Pokémon that bursts forth with red light makes him squeak in fear and trip over a branch behind him. His back hits the floor as the ghost Pokémon seems to grow in size second by second, an expanse of purple mist with an eerie, toxic glow. White triangular eyes scan the scene in a second, and then its wide mouth bares in a sharp-toothed screech of threat. _Haunter_. Growlithe cowers, but does not run behind Hwanwoong as instructed. He stays firmly in front of him, between him and the Haunter and the Arbok and the Team Rocket grunt.

For a moment, a moment that leaves him unable to move a muscle, Hwanwoong thinks that the Haunter is going to attack him and he turns his face away, ready to take whatever is coming. But it looks down upon his trembling form, ghostly claws clenching sharp as knives through the mist, and then turns.

Chancing a glance up, Hwanwoong watches as the Team Rocket agent steps back, looking from the Pokémon to Hwanwoong with wide, fearful eyes.

A dark orb of powerful energy is beginning to form in the Haunter’s midst, and Hwanwoong scrambles further back across the grass. They cannot be caught in the crossfire. The cluster of energy glows blue and purple, shining across their faces, and Hwanwoong has the presence of mind to grab Growlithe around the middle as he crawls back to his feet and staggers away.

‘Arbok, attack!’

As the Shadow Ball unleashes, there is an explosion of psychic energy and Hwanwoong is blown from his feet to the ground some distance away. The air knocked out of him, he hugs his body protectively around Growlithe and squeezes his eyes shut. Haunter is screeching viciously, like the very worst wail of his hearing aids when something goes badly wrong, and Hwanwoong has to silence the world.

Youngjo’s Pokémon are powerful, the sort of powerful that would win Championships. As Hwanwoong puts a stop to sight and sound and concentrates only on touch, the warmth of Growlithe against him, he imagines Youngjo standing in the centre of stadium like his father. Now that he thinks about it, they look so similar. The same mysterious eyes, even the same smirk.

Hwanwoong thinks that Youngjo would suit the arena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! It’s time for a new chapter ^-^  
> I’m sorry that it took a little while – it actually takes me quite a while to write these chapters because it’s outside of my usual style and needs a surprising amount of planning! <3

Hwanwoong does not hear the shouts.

He opens one eye when a small breeze manages to break through the dense forest, and for a moment thinks that he has lost his sight, before realising that he is sat in pitch darkness. Before panic takes over his chest, he finds his fingers buried in the familiar warmth of Growlithe’s fur, and glances around. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he begins to make out the shape of the trees and casting his gaze upwards, he sees a small number of stars dotted between the canopy.

Over in the distance, he can detect a strange purple glow. He blinks, sits up and feels a throbbing in his head. Sweat dampens his forehead, the humidity amongst the trees marrying with his latent fever.

Haunter emerges from the trees, drifting on the almost-there breeze, and Hwanwoong exhales. He has become used to the eerie Pokémon, started to find comfort in its bizarre smile and the way it bobs on the air. As he watches, he sees a figure break through from the trees, and he makes to jump up before he realises –

‘Hwanwoong!’ At last the voice finds him. ‘God, Hwanwoong!’ Youngjo skids on the leafy forest floor and slides down beside him. Before Hwanwoong even catches hold of himself, Youngjo has taken his face in his hands and is smoothing the hair back from his face. ‘You scared the crap out of me, Hwanwoong!’

Hwanwoong blinks again. Slowly, everything starts to come back. Youngjo’s hands are cold but still reassuring on his cheeks. ‘I almost got caught,’ he whispers, ‘I was watching you guys and then – then a Team Rocket agent came out from the woods.’

‘Who? Where?’ Youngjo presses.

Hwanwoong feels sleepy. ‘I ran into the forest after Haunter attacked.’

‘Good boy,’ says Youngjo, and Hwanwoong doesn’t know whether he’s talking to him or the Pokémon. ‘But we need to move now.’ His voice turns low and urgent, as if the relief has worn off and been replaced by awareness.

‘What happened? What happened in the lab?’ As his mind comes back to him, Hwanwoong starts to remember the day, the evening, the night. He remembers watching Youngjo and the others sneak past the gates and towards the nondescript building. He remembers the fear that they might never re-emerge. ‘Where are the others?’

‘Headed to the beach,’ says Youngjo, ‘we weren’t detected by humans but I got a bad cut here from the Meowth they had in the lab.’ He holds up his arm and Hwanwoong sees dark blood on his forearm, seeping through a tear in his clothes. ‘We need to leave the island now. The sooner that we get back to the mainland, the less chance there is that someone will have noticed we were gone.’

Hwanwoong reaches for his arm to check on the wound, but Youngjo pulls it away and stands, trying to tug Hwanwoong to his feet along with him. ‘But you got the Pokémon?’ Hwanwoong whispers.

‘Of course we got the Pokémon,’ says Youngjo and at last there’s a smile on his face, lit up by the purple light shining from the ghost Pokémon circling around them. ‘Did you doubt me?’

‘I was worried.’

‘Well I was worried about you too.’ Youngjo touches his forehead. ‘You’re still sick.’

‘Am not.’

‘Yes you are. When we’re back in Daegu, I’m going to tell Seoho and Geonhak to make you stay in bed for at least a week.’

Hwanwoong almost misses the meaning, having to concentrate hard just to figure out the words without the help of Youngjo’s lips in the low light. ‘What happens then?’

Youngjo frowns. ‘What do you mean?’

‘How will I see you once we get back to Daegu?’

There is a pause, in which Youngjo squeezes Hwanwoong’s shoulder and looks down at the floor. It’s even harder to hear when he directs his words downwards. ‘Well you won’t, Woong. You don’t need to see me again. That’s the idea.’

A stone plummets to the pit of Hwanwoong’s stomach, and he’s almost ashamed of the ache in his chest. ‘What? I don’t understand.’

‘My debt to you is paid. You don’t need me in your life anymore.’

‘That’s – that’s all this was to you? Just – just a debt?’

Youngjo looks up and licks his lips. It seems to take a moment for him to answer. Then, he glances away into the woods, as if he’s afraid to meet his eyes. ‘Yes. We’re from different worlds, Hwanwoong. There’s no reason for us to see each other again, once this is over.’

Traitorous tears spring to Hwanwoong’s eyes, and he shoves Youngjo hard in the chest to push him away. ‘Where’s Seoho? I want to walk with Seoho.’

‘Woong…’

‘I want to get back to the mainland! Can you at least walk me back to my friends or is that too much to ask of you?’

Youngjo says something too quiet for Hwanwoong to hear, but Hwanwoong doesn’t ask him to speak up. He picks up Growlithe and tucks him into the front of his jacket, the warmth soothing against his chest, and rests his chin down on his head. His Pokémon is the one that he knows he can count on, the one that will never leave him alone.

~

The journey back to the city seems quicker than the journey they’d taken to Jeju, perhaps because the threat of time running out no longer hangs over their heads. Across the water, Hwanwoong rides on Lapras, safe between Keonhee and Geonhak. The shuttle bus that they take north rocks him to sleep, but he keeps opening his drowsy eyes to watch Dongju playing with Raichu on the empty back seat. It’s like life has been breathed back into Dongju’s soul.

Youngjo sits alone, eyes cast out of the misted window as he watches the landscape pass by.

During some of his waking minutes, Hwanwoong watches the back of his head. Each time, he drags his eyes away with an angry snap at himself inside his own mind. He tucks his legs up on the seat, closing his eyes and resting his head down onto Keonhee’s shoulder again. When the bus next stops and he is rocked awake, he jumps. Youngjo has stood.

‘I’m leaving here,’ he says, mainly to Keonhee.

‘You’re not coming to Daegu?’ asks Dongju. He is finally speaking to Youngjo like a fellow human being. If Hwanwoong wasn’t so miserable, then he would be relieved.

Youngjo shrugs and turns away. ‘I’ll make my own way.’

‘Thank you,’ says Dongju. Raichu hops down from the seat and starts to waddle down the aisle, but Youngjo has already put up his hand to wave goodbye.

‘It’s fine. It felt good, to do the right thing.’ His eyes meet Hwanwoong’s for a second before Hwanwoong looks away and stares resolutely out of the window instead. He knows that he’s being immature, but he’s also sick, and he’s tired, and he upset at what Youngjo said. And he’s angry at himself, for being so naïve as to think they were friends.

Keonhee sighs. ‘I liked him.’

‘I liked him to,’ says Seoho, ‘no matter what he was.’

Hwanwoong says nothing. He squeezes his eyes shut and pulls out his hearing aids so that he doesn’t have to listen to them, or watch Youngjo pass the window of the bus. No amount of taking away his senses, though, can stop his thoughts. They’re all about Youngjo, about when they first met in Busan and when they met again in the National Park, and about Youngjo grabbing him by the collar to drag him away from the café, and about crossing the sea pressed close and safe against his body. Where will Youngjo go now?

Back to Daegu, too?

Or somewhere else?

Does his future lie with the mysterious serum that Officer Jennie mentioned, stolen from the medical laboratory in Daegu City?

Or will Youngjo spend his days trying to steal Pokémon, trying to evade the police for another week, trying to keep his superiors happy to protect his family?

Hwanwoong won’t sleep now. He gives a pitiful cough and tucks himself closer against Keonhee’s side, reminding himself that he has his four friends with him. Keonhee has agreed to come with them to the city to watch the tournament, not least, Hwanwoong suspects, because he’s worried about Team Rocket’s continued activity in the area. With Keonhee with them, though, he definitely feels safer. In Dongju’s animated, blow-by-blow account of their rescue mission, Keonhee was as involved as Youngjo. His broad smile and carefree attitude also give Hwanwoong a strange sense of security, like nothing bad could ever happen while Keonhee is around.

He supposes that it’s not like that with Youngjo.

But strangely, he never felt unsafe with him.

He does not sleep, but he does give in to silence for quite some time, the only disturbance a muffled rumble of speech from Keonhee’s chest. Once they are back in Daegu, the others are planning to throw themselves straight into the competition, like nothing has even happened. Dongju has remarkable bounce-back-ability, perhaps from starting his journey at such a young age, and Seoho and Geonhak are breezy in their approach to the world. Keonhee, who isn’t allowed to compete, will no doubt be left on baby-sitting duty.

Hwanwoong doesn’t have it in his heart to protest anymore.

If they want him to rest, then he’ll rest. He has no desire to take his place in the tournament; he only signed up in the first place because Dongju had talked him into it. He wonders who his opponent would have been, and smiles when he thinks that they’ll be happy to have a bye into the next round. He does hope, though, that his illness will clear up quick enough for him to attend his friends’ battles.

He wants to see Seoho’s Skitty outsmart a Pokémon five times her size, or Geonhak’s Marill whizz around the water arena like lightning. He wants to see Dongju’s Raichu light up the entire stadium with electricity, because he’s sure that Dongju will make it through the preliminaries, through all of the early stages, until he’s competing for the biggest prize of all. Thanks to the sponsorship from the country’s biggest Poké Ball manufacturers, the prize money alone is more than Hwanwoong has ever seen in his life.

He opens one eye and then the other, sitting up and biting his lip.

 _What a thought_.

‘Dongju? Is it too late to enter the competition?’

Dongju turns to him in surprise. His hand is holding out a clump of Pokibble, which Raichu is munching on. ‘You already entered, Hwanwoong. And you’re not competing, you need to rest!’

Hwanwoong has to track the words on his lips, too distracted to think about his hearing aids. ‘But for someone else? Would it be too late?’

‘Yeah, Hwanwoong, the deadline passed two days ago. Why?’

He turns back around and sinks down into his chair. He chews his thumb and directs his gaze back out at the passing town. They’re getting nearer to the city, he’s sure, because the suburbs are becoming denser and every once in a while they whip past a billboard advertising the tournament. Keonhee pulls out an old handheld game console, and Hwanwoong considers watching him play for a while, but his head is lost in thoughts, too lost to focus.

 _It would be too late anyway_ , he tells himself.

Youngjo has gone, and he doesn’t know where. He has no way to find him.

Like Youngjo said, there’s no reason for the two of them to ever see each other again.

~

They do not seem to suspect anything.

Perhaps they ought to, as it is so rare for Hwanwoong to lay down without a fight, but the four of them are so excited that they’re distracted just enough to buy it. Dongju’s first battle is today, at midday, and the others all have tickets to watch the early round. Those tickets are free, but Keonhee has already assured them that he’ll be able to wangle them the usually expensive tickets for the final rounds with no trouble. As they bustle around the hotel room that Hwanwoong has been sharing with Dongju, making sure that Dongju is dressed at his best and that his Pokémon have had plenty of breakfast, Hwanwoong sinks further and further under his blankets.

The bed is comfortable, Keonhee having paid for the expensive hotel, and Hwanwoong is warm in his pyjamas. A part of him considers staying in bed all day after all, to enjoy the peace and take some hours to himself just to make sense of everything that has happened since his mom left him in Busan, but he reminds himself of what is important, and glances over at the window in the hopes that the blue light of the sky will wake him up more.

‘Are you going to be okay by yourself?’ checks Seoho.

‘I’m in a hotel room, hyung, I’m not going to run into any trouble!’ he protests.

‘I’m just checking. You have your phone to call us if you need us?’

‘If I’d wanted to go on this journey with my mom, I would’ve asked her,’ Hwanwoong grumbles, and he pulls the blankets over his head to cocoon himself in darkness for a little longer. He doesn’t move until a weight jumps onto the bed and he pulls the blanket away with a groan. Dongju has launched himself down beside him and is now prodding at his back, shoulders, cheeks – anything that he can get his hands on.

‘Wish me luck, hyung!’

Hwanwoong pulls a face, then sighs. ‘You don’t need luck. You’re going to kill it. I wish I could be there to watch.’ For good measure, he adds a cough after his words, even though his chest now feels quite clear.

‘I wish you could be there to compete!’ says Dongju. ‘Your first battle would be tomorrow.’

‘Mm,’ Hwanwoong hums, ‘but it’s okay. My Pokémon aren’t ready anyway.’

The four of them fuss around for at least ten minutes more, Geonhak collecting water and snacks and more of the medicine that Hwanwoong has been taking, leaving them all on the nightstand. Seoho finds more blankets, even though Hwanwoong protests that he is more than warm enough. Keonhee offers to leave some of his Pokémon to guard the hotel room, which Hwanwoong refuses in an instant.

Only when they finally concede to leave him alone, and the door shuts with a click, does he throw back his blankets and stumble out of the bed in his hurry. He rootles around for clothes, hopping across the room with one leg in his jeans while he unbuttons his shirt and reaches for a tee instead. He knows that he does not have much time, and he also knows that he has no idea where to begin, but he has to do something.

The hotel room is wide and spacious, with fancy artwork hanging above the bed, and there is a television. Yesterday, Hwanwoong watched some of the televised preliminaries, all of which were starring trainers that the networks expect to do very well in the finals. A lot of them are the children of Pokémon Champions, and Hwanwoong could not help but wonder how Youngjo’s life would’ve gone if his father hadn’t taken the path he had. This morning, Hwanwoong doesn’t touch the television, instead cramming everything into his backpack and taking one more dose of his medicine while he hops to brush his teeth.

A glance in the mirror tells him that he looks haphazard.

He doesn’t have time to fix his hair.

Out in the corridor, he feels the need to creep, even though (as he reminds himself) he is a free citizen, and an adult with the licence to go wherever he may please. Nonetheless, he slinks along the wall towards the elevators, and once inside gnaws at his fingernails nervously. _You have no idea what you’re doing_ , his brain tells him, but he ignores it and pummels the button for the lobby.

By the time that he makes it out onto the street, this already feels like a bad idea.

He is buffeted from side to side by the crowds, and he’s not tall enough to see over enough of the hordes to make out directions. Following his instincts, he heads in the direction that they took last time, first finding the city square and then working outwards from there. He wishes that he had Growlithe at his side, but after seeing Dongju without his Pokémon, he cannot risk ever letting Growlithe out of his sight again, and it would be easy for him to become lost amongst the tangle of legs and shoes that pound the pavements.

His heart thuds against his ribcage as he pushes through the crowd. A glance at his watch makes him fear that he’s running out of time already. How long will it take Dongju to win his battle? Will the others stay to watch more of the preliminaries once he’s done, or will they race back to the hotel room to make sure that Hwanwoong is in his bed, recuperating, where he’s supposed to be?

He keeps his head down and shoves his way down a side-street where he can breathe. He only needs to make it to the café. That’s a start. He doesn’t even know whether Youngjo has returned to Daegu after all, but it’s the best hope that he’s got. In his vision of the future, he imagines himself to come up with a plan once he gets there. Right now, it’s the journey that he needs to concentrate on.

It’s easier to move down the side-streets, and with a churn of his stomach he remembers their time in the strange Inn, with the strange innkeeper, with his strange Hypno. Hwanwoong wonders if he’ll ever know whether the innkeeper was guilty or not. His mind strays again to Officer Jennie, and the serum, and all of the questions that he would’ve asked Youngjo if he’d had the chance.

Time. If only they’d had time.

 _Youngjo didn’t want it_.

He keeps reminding himself of that. Over and over in his head, he tells himself that Youngjo doesn’t want his friendship, has never wanted it. He owed him a debt, a debt that he paid, and that was to be the end of it. There’s no reason for Hwanwoong to be tracking him down now. Except that Hwanwoong isn’t very good at leaving people alone when they need help. He’s needed help before – from doctors, from his family, from Seoho and Geonhak, from _Youngjo_.

Even if Youngjo doesn’t want it, he still can’t stop himself from trying.

As he moves through the backstreets, he starts to feel a crawling sensation on the back of his neck, familiar from the forest in Jeju: like someone is watching him. Or following him. He glances over his shoulder, but the alley behind him is completely empty. There are no doorways for someone to hide in. He narrows his eyes, and his fingers itch towards Magnemite’s Poké Ball.

If Team Rocket are around, then Magnemite is his best option. It’s easier to hit them quick, with an electric shock from above, and Magnemite would be harder to grab than Growlithe. He takes a few more steps, then turns around again.

Still nothing.

‘Who’s there?’ he calls out, trying to keep his voice steady.

Of course there is no answer, so he turns around and hunches his shoulders up as he walks faster through the shortcut, now eager to get back to the main streets. Sure that he hears footsteps, he swings back around and grabs his Poké Ball, launching it before he even thinks.

Magnemite bursts out into the alleyway, swivelling for a foe.

Right in front of Hwanwoong, thin air materialises into being and he takes a step back, but it’s out of surprise rather than fear. Haunter hovers violet, a foot above Hwanwoong’s head, with that scary face that’s almost become friendly.

He spins back around, and his heart leaps up to his throat as he sees Youngjo, pacing the backstreet in front of him. Umbreon prowls around his ankles. The three of them all move like ghosts.

But Hwanwoong sensed him.

‘You really never do what you’re told, do you?’ sighs Youngjo.

Hwanwoong tilts his chin up. ‘You don’t get to tell me what to do.’

‘No, but Seoho and Geonhak told you to stay in bed, and you didn’t.’

‘What do you know about it?’ he huffs.

‘I’ve been keeping an eye on you, making sure you don’t get yourself into any more trouble.’ There’s a purple bruise under Youngjo’s eye, that he didn’t have three days ago, but the wound on his forearm is hidden by the sleeves of his leather jacket. His hair is washed, and he looks better put together than he has in the past. ‘Evidently, I was right to do so.’

Hwanwoong puffs his chest out. ‘You said you didn’t want anything to do with me! So why are you following me around now?’

‘I never said that I didn’t want anything to do with you,’ says Youngjo, and his voice drops. ‘I said that you don’t need me in your life anymore, that there’s no reason for me to be here. There’s a difference.’

‘No reason?’ Hwanwoong didn’t plan on arguing with him, once he found him, but now he feels anger rise up inside him, anger at the way Youngjo had all but abandoned him when he was sick and drained. ‘ _No reason_? Not that we were friends? Not that I cared about you? That isn’t important to you?’

The words must feel like a slap, because Youngjo turns his face away and touches his cheek with one hand as he talks to the floor. ‘It’s not like that, Hwanwoong.’

‘Then what’s it like?’

‘My life is dangerous. You know this. Being around me is dangerous for you. It would be safer for us to have a clean break.’

‘You can’t break from your friends! It doesn’t work like that!’

Youngjo sighs and meets his eyes at last. ‘Why were you looking for me?’

‘Who says that I was?’ Hwanwoong snaps.

‘Well, you didn’t look surprised to see me.’

Sniffing, Hwanwoong shoves his hands into his pockets. Magnemite circles around his head, ready to protect him if necessary. ‘Okay, I was looking for you.’ He keeps his gaze down as Umbreon crosses the gap between them and starts to wind around his legs, rubbing her face gently against his shin. ‘I had an idea, an idea that I couldn’t just _not_ tell you.’

‘You and your ideas, Hwanwoong...’

‘We rescued Dongju’s Pokémon, didn’t we?’ he says sharply, ‘and that was my idea!’

A small smile flickers on Youngjo’s face. ‘Okay, tell me the idea.’

‘The tournament… it has a massive prize to be won at the end.’

‘I know,’ says Youngjo, ‘why do you think there are so many people here in the city?’

‘A big, big prize. Lots of money.’

‘Yes.’

Hwanwoong becomes irritated that he’s the one who needs to spell this out for him. ‘You need lots of money, to get away from Team Rocket. To pay your debt to them. If you won the tournament, you’d have enough to buy your freedom, _and_ enough to find somewhere to live, or buy a train ticket, or – or start a Pokémon journey like me.’ As he says it, he feels his cheeks flush, because the suggestions sounds childish when he says it out loud. People Youngjo’s age don’t _start_ a Pokémon journey; people Hwanwoong’s age don’t either. That’s for teenagers, kids. It’s not the road that most people take.

As his meaning becomes clear, Youngjo leans back against the alley wall and raises his eyebrows. ‘I see.’ He casts his gaze up at the sky.

‘See what? Tell me what you’re thinking!’

‘What makes you think I could even win a competition like this? I’ve never battled in a Gym, or trained my Pokémon on the conventional routes, normal battling.’

‘Your Umbreon won a national championship, with your father!’ says Hwanwoong. ‘She already knows what she’s doing, Youngjo.’

‘And what about my other Pokémon? I rescued Haunter from a ghost-trap in the mountains, he’s never been in an arena. My Mantine has never even battled before.’

‘They’ll follow Raven’s lead! Look, you’d only need to get through the preliminaries and Raven could do that by herself, and then you’ll have more time to train. There are pop-up training centres all across the city. I need to train my Pokémon anyway, so you could practice against me.’

‘You underestimate how long it takes to reach a competitive level, Woong.’

Annoyed at his arguments, Hwanwoong stalks over to him and jabs a finger at his chest. ‘Your Pokémon have been battling more seriously than this for years. You’re Team Rocket! You’re more experienced that half the kids who’re going to enter the competition. You’re more experienced than my friends, Seoho and Geonhak, and they’ve won a bunch of Gym badges. You’re just looking for excuses.’

Youngjo sighs and takes Hwanwoong’s hand from his chest, folding his fingers back up and squeezing it gently between his own. ‘You’re forgetting, little Totodile, that the deadline already passed for entries – the competition has already started. I can hardly walk up to the registration desk and demand they reopen, can I?’

Now that this issue has been raised, Hwanwoong feels a smug smile emerge on his face. He doesn’t free his hand, but uses his other to pat Youngjo’s chest. ‘Not a problem. There’s a free slot.’

‘What _free slot_?’

‘Mine!’ he says brightly.

‘I think someone will notice if Kim Youngjo shows up in place of Yeo Hwanwoong.’

‘Not if you’re Yeo Hwanwoong,’ he smirks.

Despite his ministrations, he has a sneaking suspicion that Youngjo is enjoying this. Lips twitching at the corners, Youngjo rests his head back on the brickwork and raises his eyebrows again. ‘How so?’

‘No one’s ever seen me, except my friends, and they’re not going to rat on you. And no one’s ever seen you, except Team Rocket, who _obviously_ aren’t going to rat on you either. As far as anyone else knows, you _could_ be Yeo Hwanwoong!’

‘What if I didn’t win?’ whispers Youngjo, and there’s a vulnerability that creeps into his voice.

Hwanwoong negotiates his fingers so that he can squeeze Youngjo’s hand instead. ‘Then we could try something else! But it’s a start, isn’t it?’

‘You were supposed to go back to your own life.’

‘I’m not leaving you with them,’ says Hwanwoong, ‘I can’t.’

He jumps, body turning rigid, when Youngjo cups a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him close to press a kiss to his forehead. ‘Thank you,’ he says, and when he pulls away Hwanwoong’s skin burns.

‘Does that mean you’ll do it?’

‘We’ll try it,’ says Youngjo.

Hwanwoong beams. ‘Let’s go train!’

‘Not yet. There are things I have to do.’

His face falls. ‘Things? Youngjo, the first battle is tomorrow!’

‘I’ll find you later, I promise. But I can’t just skip out on my job.’

‘You did when we went to Jeju!’ Hwanwoong protests.

Youngjo looks down at the floor and then lifts his hand to the purple-black bruise under his eye. ‘Yes, and this is what I got for it. Team Rocket will stretch like elastic, but if I pull too far then they’ll snap. I need to be careful.’

Hwanwoong’s stomach flips over. He touches his hand to the bruise, just grazing it with his fingers but Youngjo still winces. There’s a crack in the skin, red and fine. ‘They did this to you?’

‘It happens.’

‘We’re going to get you out of there,’ he says, and he means it. No matter what it takes. ‘I promise.’

Youngjo nods and takes his hand where it’s touching his face. ‘I believe you.’

~

The safe-house is small and grey, grey walls, grey ceiling, grey carpets, even a grey couch with sunken grey cushions. A bare lightbulb hangs over the miserable living space, lighting up the Team Rocket grunt who sits at the small round table, trying to piece back together a broken Pokétch. Youngjo ignores him and heads to the kitchenette. In the refrigerator, there is nothing but bottle water and two lots of leftovers wrapped in silver foil, which are starting to not smell too good. He takes out the water and pours a drink down his throat, careful not to touch his lips with the rim of the bottle.

With a deep breath, he turns to Agent Sun’s office and taps on the door. His stomach twists, but he thinks of Hwanwoong, and Hwanwoong’s determination that he won’t have to do this for much longer.

‘Yes?’

He pushes open the door and leans against the frame.

The office has been put together rapidly, with an old study desk and cables trailing all across the carpet in a tangle from the monitors propped beside each other. Empty coffee mugs break up the black of cables. ‘Where have you been?’

Youngjo meets his eyes. ‘Out. I’m not a grunt, I don’t have to check in wherever I go.’

‘Sometimes I curse whoever made you an agent,’ mutters Agent Sun, and then he raises his eyebrows. ‘Besides, I have to keep an eye on you. You disappeared for _days_ this last time.’

‘I had things to do. It won’t happen again.’

A battle of wills in their eyes, and then Agent Sun asks: ‘What do you want?’

‘I’m not going to Seoul.’

‘Yes, you are.’

‘I want to stay here until the competition is done with.’

He prays that Agent Sun won’t ask why, that he’ll assume Youngjo just wants to have his pick of the tournament Pokémon just like everyone else, and sure enough his superior simply shrugs. ‘Fine. The elixir isn’t being transported to the docks for another few weeks. If it’ll shut you up for a while, keep you busy until then, then stay.’

‘Cool. Thanks.’

‘You need to be in Seoul for the day of transport. We had a minor security breach in Jeju this week, and the higher-ups don’t want to take any chances.’

Youngjo feels his palms turn sweaty, so he crosses his hands behind his back. ‘What kind of breach?’

‘At our Pokémon storage facility. Some kids broke in to try and rescue their Pokémon.’

‘How did they get past the gates?’

Agent Sun looks up from his monitor again. ‘Someone let them in.’

‘Who?’ His mouth is dry.

‘Some grunt. They found him unconscious up by the forest.’

For a moment, Youngjo is so confused that he almost protests, but then he remembers the grunt that Hwanwoong fought with Haunter, up on the bank. ‘Really?’

‘The kids must have turned on him, after. I hope it was worth it, whatever they paid him, now that he’s back in our grasp.’

Youngjo swallows and nods, then does his best to match the smile on Agent Sun’s face. ‘Right. Yeah.’

‘We all know what happens to people who betray Team Rocket.’

‘I know,’ he nods. ‘Sounds like the guy was an idiot.’

‘Some grunts don’t know their place,’ sighs Agent Sun, ‘just like some _agents_. But they all learn in the end.’

Hatred courses through Youngjo’s veins, but he keeps his expression perfectly steady, neutral. His very blood feels hot, burning, and his forehead aches to knot up, but he forces his muscles to relax. ‘Of course.’ He turns to leave, but Sun calls him back, just for a moment, and he grits his teeth.

‘While you’re off having fun, RAVN, do remember who you work for.’

‘I’ve never forgotten,’ he says quietly. He brings Hwanwoong to his mind again, fixates his mind on the image of him, on the way his soft hair falls over his forehead and he tries to blow it out of the way with little puffs, and on the way he scrunches up his face when he’s concentrating. ‘I never would.’

‘Good.’

He collects his bag from under the bunkbeds in the safe-house, and swings it over his back as he starts back down the stairs and breaks back out onto the side-street. The fresh air is freedom, or the closest to freedom that he’s ever felt, and he sucks it into his lungs after the suffocation of minutes in that building. Out of instinct, he slinks back against the alley wall when a police bike passes, and then he steps out onto the main street, heading in the direction where he knows he will find Hwanwoong.

They don’t have much time, but his heart is starting to thud harder.

There is something about Hwanwoong’s youthful optimism, about his bright, unabashed belief in goodness, that makes him think they can succeed.

‘Come on, Raven,’ he says softly, and his Umbreon skips ahead of him with a lightness in her steps.

Youngjo thinks of the vast, empty stadium, reserved for the finals, and imagines how it would feel to stand in the very centre.

Would his parents watch, on the television?

He’s not in contact with them, but he thinks that they’ll be watching the competition.

For a moment, it’s not about the money. He stops in the street, but he isn’t knocked aside – instead, the people who pass him are the ones who fall left or right. For a moment, he feels a rush at the thought of competition, the thought of winning, and the thought of proving that he’s more than just who he works for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo it’s update time ^-^ ^-^ Thank you everyone who is supporting the fic and leaving the awesome comments, I’m so happy!

It is so late in the night that the other trainers have gone home. The practice hall is near empty, the lights dimmed for overnight power saving, and there is an eerie hint in the air, not helped by the fact that Youngjo’s Haunter is practicing floating through walls. The hall is vast, divided into different sections for training. On one wall there are climbing frames in different heights and colours, and on another there are targets drawn in red paint to try out throwing and hurling attacks.

One section, to the east end of the hall, is dominated by punch-bags, some hanging from the ceiling by clanking silver chains and some propped on the ground. A bench-press and four racks of weights are laid out on the floor. This is where the Fighting Pokémon train. An agility course is set up across the centre of the hall with slender slalom poles and a seesaw like structure atop which balances Umbreon. In one corner stands a very expensive battle simulator, emblazoned with the name of one of the tournament sponsors.

In the next room over, there is a vast swimming pool, where the Water Pokémon can train too. Earlier in the afternoon, Hwanwoong played there with Poliwag while Youngjo put his Mantine through its paces.

Only six Pokémon can be put forward as the final team for the tournament, with the potential for two substitutions, and Youngjo must submit his concluded team early in the morning before his battle. That submission is only eight hours away, but Youngjo has expressed no interest in rest, so Hwanwoong watches him from against the wall with bleary eyes. Until Youngjo leaves to sleep, he will not go anywhere.

Umbreon, Mantine and Haunter were sureties for the team, but Hwanwoong was intrigued to meet Youngjo’s other Pokémon. Throughout the day he has revealed them, and more and more he has started to feel confident.

An aggressive Tauros that Hwanwoong watched ram down a three metre long barrier. An extremely fast Manectric that flitted around the practice hall like lightning, and will be invaluable against any water-type opponents, even though Youngjo warned that the Pokémon is shy and not suited to battle.

Youngjo only has five Pokémon, but Hwanwoong is not too worried. He can only battle with three per match and there will be time to add to the team between now and the finals. He’s confident that Umbreon, Mantine, Haunter, Tauros and Manectric will be able to get him through the preliminaries and the early rounds. They can travel out of the city and search out some back-up for the team. He was planning on making a trip with Seoho and Geonhak anyway.

‘You’re going easy on me,’ whines Hwanwoong. Growlithe is battling with Manectric, but it has turned into more of a playfight. Growlithe keeps rolling onto his back and Manectric just nudges at his head with his geometric yellow nose.

‘Am not,’ says Youngjo, but he is.

Hwanwoong yawns and pulls his feet up onto the bench. Wrapping his arms around his legs, he rests his chin down onto his knees and gives an instruction to Growlithe, who rolls over again and puffs a tiny smoke of Ember. ‘ _Growlithe_!’ he groans, but the Pokémon is mostly excited to make new friends. Hwanwoong cannot blame him. Of his journey so far, it has been the making friends part that he has enjoyed more than any other. Everything else, from evading Team Rocket to winning the battle against Arbok with Haunter, has been secondary.

‘Your Pokémon are very cute, Hwanwoong,’ says Youngjo. ‘They’re like you. Not _really_ built for fighting.’

Hwanwoong glowers at him. ‘I can fight!’

‘Is that what you want?’ asks Youngjo.

Expression faltering, Hwanwoong nods. ‘Of course.’

‘I mean is it what you really want? When you started on this journey, was it battling that you pictured?’

‘I – I don’t know,’ says Hwanwoong. He’s tired and his mind is cloudy. Though he has recovered from his chest infection, he still feels fatigued and needs all the extra rest that he can get. His watch has ticked past 2am. ‘I wanted to go on a journey. Catch lots of Pokémon. Make lots of friends. Then you battle, that’s what you do.’

‘I don’t think you have to do that. You could go on this journey, catch Pokémon, make friends, travel to distant lands, without making battling a part of it.’

‘Battling is the only way to make money to keep travelling.’

‘I don’t think so. You can get creative. And there are always people in this world willing to put a roof over your head or give you a meal for free. I just can’t see you standing opposite a trainer in a battle. It isn’t you.’

Hwanwoong huffs. ‘Well, you haven’t seen me battle properly yet!’

Slowly, Youngjo’s eyes drag to Growlithe, who is now on his back, pawing at Manectric’s nose. ‘Sure.’

‘Maybe I’ll get good at it. You don’t know.’

‘If you travelled with someone like me, I could battle and pay for the dinner,’ says Youngjo, like it’s a throwaway comment, but Hwanwoong sits up straight. He can’t help but think about it, what it would be like to travel across the nation working on his Pokédex, without having to worry about big battles. More importantly, he thinks about the fact that Youngjo said it. Has he thought about it? Has he envisioned a life outside of Team Rocket? And is he beginning to ask himself what a future would look like if he had a sudden ounce of self-determination?

‘I guess that would work.’

Youngjo smiles, then calls Manectric over to his side. ‘We should go. You’re tired. You need to sleep.’

‘Me? You need to sleep! You’ve got a battle in the morning.’

‘Hwanwoong, I’ve escaped the police on foot after two hours of sleep in two days. I’ve camped out on reconnaissance in the rain without sleeping for days. I’m fine. You never need to worry about me.’

‘I do worry about you. I worry about you having black eyes and split lips and I need you to keep your strength up because this tournament is a marathon, not a sprint. We need to make sure you eat well and get enough sleep and cool down your muscles every day, because battle can be as exhausting for a trainer as it is for Pokémon. I might not be ready for battle, but don’t forget that I’ve watched more competitions than anyone else on this circuit! I’m not useless. I know more than anyone.’

‘I’ve never thought you’re useless,’ Youngjo says quietly. He returns his Pokémon to their Poké Balls and picks up his jacket. ‘Let’s go, so that both of us can get some sleep.’

This time, Hwanwoong does nothing to argue, because the truth is that he cannot wait to be back in his comfy hotel bed.

There’s only one problem: his over-protective friends stand between him and the bed.

The walk home is spent worrying about them, and Hwanwoong gnaws at his lower lip. Even late in the night, the streets of Daegu City are awake. There are entertainers still performing their acts lit up my lamplight, and in one case the flame of a Charmeleon’s tail. There are tourists attending for the competition, still in their groups wearing matching Pokémon hats. There are, too, less savoury elements, and Hwanwoong is very glad that he’s walking with Youngjo.

It would be impossible to feel unsafe with Youngjo. For one thing, though it makes him shudder to think about it, he knows that Youngjo carries a knife. For another, he knows that he’s probably more dangerous than any of the drunken or leering characters of the night. More than once, Hwanwoong finds himself tucking by instinct into Youngjo’s side, and when they pass a particularly rowdy group of men outside a themed nightclub Youngjo puts an arm around his shoulders and gives them a look that could commit murder of its own volition.

They all look away very fast.

‘You shouldn’t ever walk around at this time of night without me,’ says Youngjo, in a warning tone.

‘I have Growlithe.’

‘Yeah, and some people on the streets at night have Rhydon and Onix, and Growlithe’s fire type moves would be nothing on them. Nights in the cities are dangerous. I won’t sleep at night if I’m worried about someone messing with you. So promise you won’t go out this late without me with you?’

‘I won’t.’

‘Or at least without Geonhak. He looks like he could pack a punch.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

Youngjo sighs and shakes his head. ‘There’s no point in making you promise, you never do what you’re told.’

With a guilty smile, Hwanwoong shrugs. ‘This is my first time away from home, hyung. I’m living the rebellious lifestyle I never got to experience in my teens.’

‘I can see that,’ laughs Youngjo, then he turns to him. ‘What did you call me?’

‘Hyung. That’s okay, right? That’s what you are?’

‘Sure,’ he nods, and Hwanwoong is sure that he puffs out his chest and walks with his chin a little higher after that.

When they’re halfway up the stairs to the hotel room, Hwanwoong starts to feel sick again, and he gulps. Perhaps Youngjo notices the way that he slows down and lifts each foot like a dead weight, because he stops and turns around with his eyebrows raised.

‘You did tell Seoho and Geonhak what you were doing, right?’

‘Sort of.’

Youngjo glares at him. ‘Hwanwoong!’

‘I sent them a text message!’ he says defensively.

Sure enough, when he slides his key-card into the door and cracks it open, the explosion hits. All four of them are crammed into the room, Geonhak with his head buried into his hands while Keonhee is pacing. Only Dongju looks relaxed, laying back on his bed playing a video game; maybe Dongju is the one with some of his youthful naughtiness left in him. Seoho is the one that blows his top, and maybe Hwanwoong deserves it, but he has half a mind to take his hearing aids out because Seoho’s voice is shrill.

‘Yeo Hwanwoong! What the hell were you doing? We were _frantic_!’

‘I sent you a message,’ he protests.

‘Yes, I read it!’ says Seoho, voice high-pitched and lips animated. ‘ _Went to find Youngjo. Be back soon._ Very detailed. We were worried sick! We thought you might disappear for weeks! We were going to drop out of the competition and come to find you! And now I see that you’re – you’re here.’ His eyes slide to Youngjo, who has stepped up behind Hwanwoong and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.

‘Hey, Seoho.’

‘You – you found him?’

‘Yes I did,’ Hwanwoong says proudly.

‘I was talking to _him_ ,’ groans Seoho.

Youngjo nods and squeezes Hwanwoong’s shoulder. ‘Yes, I found him. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t leave him wandering off into the city by himself. I’ve been keeping an eye on him from a distance.’

Hwanwoong isn’t sure how he feels about having Youngjo as his silent, invisible sentinel. He likes it better when he walks at his side, proud like he was when he called him hyung. Standing up straighter, Hwanwoong clears his throat. ‘May I remind you both that I’m a fully grown adult?’

‘Adult? Maybe. Grown? Not so much. Totodile,’ mutters Seoho, but he wraps and arm around his shoulders and pulls him into the room.

‘How did the preliminary go?’ asks Hwanwoong, turning to Dongju. ‘Did you win?’

‘Of course,’ grins Dongju and he lowers his video game. ‘I only needed Raichu. He fried them.’

‘It was amazing,’ says Geonhak, walking over to ruffle Hwanwoong’s hair and chastise him a little. ‘You should’ve been there. Since you’re all healed up, you could’ve been. What did you go running off for?’

‘I had a plan. Have a plan. Youngjo is going to join the competition.’

‘Can’t, he’s too late,’ says Dongju. It sounds like he’s chewing something.

Very proud of himself, Hwanwoong gives them all a smug smile and then says in a slow voice, like he’s explaining the very obvious: ‘He’s going to be me.’

~

The morning of the competition, Hwanwoong is buzzing so much that he can barely stay in his seat. Breakfast is eggs and fish and rice, with a bowl of hearty soup. Hwanwoong only picks at his, too excited to eat, but he finds himself watching Youngjo across the table. Youngjo is eating like a starving man. He makes his way through a folded pancake, a whole bowl of rice with his chopsticks clattering impolitely on the white china bowl, and then nearly an entire fried fish. Watching him eat reminds Hwanwoong that this sort of thing is not familiar to Youngjo. Youngjo hasn’t had his mom at his side to cook him three square meals a day for a very long time.

Raven nibbles at Pokibble that Dongju holds out for her. It feels strange to see her in an environment like this, just like seeing Youngjo. Around them, other guests move between the tables and chatter about the upcoming matches. None of them know that a highly wanted Team Rocket agent sits in their midst, enjoying breakfast. Hwanwoong wonders about the identity of their opponent. Could it be one of the guests at this hotel, too?

‘Okay, I’m ready,’ says Youngjo, after cramming so much food that Hwanwoong is surprised he doesn’t throw up. The bruise under his eye is still dark but there is a hint of green at the edges and he hopes that it is starting to heal. Cringing, the thought creeps into his mind that he prays his parents don’t switch on the TV and watch any of the selected preliminaries. There’s too high of a chance that they’ll see a Yeo Hwanwoong on the screen who looks nothing like their son.

The six of them travel to the venue where Youngjo signs in, and Hwanwoong looks around with interest. The others already attended Dongju’s battle, but for him this is new. In fact, it will be the first competitive battle that he has _ever_ attended in person. His dad bought him tickets once when he was a kid, but his mom had decided that it wasn’t safe.

Rather than over in the large stadium, this preliminary battle takes place in a small hall not unlike the place where they trained last night. There are benches on two tiers around the walls, and the battleground itself is simple, orange clay underfoot with the boundaries mapped out in white chalk. It’s nothing like the complex habitats and environments that they will create in the stadium for the later rounds, from vast lakes to small craggy mountains.

‘Are you nervous?’ he asks Youngjo in a squeaky voice that suggests _he_ is.

‘No,’ answers Youngjo, and Hwanwoong can tell that he means it.

As they mill around the small arena, a few people spilling into the hall to watch, Hwanwoong eyes up the opposition. She is a young trainer, but no younger than himself, and her purple hair is pulled back into a long ponytail. Around her ankles a happy looking Chikorita is skipping. Hwanwoong frowns and taps his foot. His own Growlithe would be perfect for such a battle, but Youngjo doesn’t have a fire-type in his team. The size advantage of Tauros could be important. He sidles closer to him and whispers in his ear that he should include Tauros in his line-up.

The early rounds are so disorganised that the referee shows up fifteen minutes late, but Hwanwoong still feels a buzz of nerves under his skin as he shuffles to his seat between Seoho and Geonhak and settles his hands in his lap. The cheering from the friends of Youngjo’s opponent is so loud that he turns down his hearing aids with a grimace, content to rely on his other senses as he watches the scene unfold.

Youngjo selects Umbreon, Tauros and Mantine as his team.

‘For her first Pokémon, Yeojin has selected Chikorita! For his first Pokémon, Hwanwoong has selected Tauros!’

Hearing someone else called by his name is something quite bizarre that Hwanwoong had not fully anticipated. He gulps and shuffles in his seat. For the first time, he is aware that they are doing something very much against the rules. Instead of feeling sick, though, he feels strangely exhilarated. He never got to misbehave at school like other kids; his only teacher was his mom and he wouldn’t have dared muck around in front of her. Now, doing something against the rules makes him flush with excitement.

He gulps at the realisation that it might not be a coincidence, the way that he has bonded with the Team Rocket agent, after all.

Chikorita is fast, and playful. She darts around the narrow battleground like in blur. The small crowd lets out an _ooh_ when she fires a ruthless Razor Leaf at Tauros, but the bull Pokémon takes it in its stride. When Hwanwoong looks at Youngjo, his face is so focussed, like there’s nothing in the world except the battle. ‘Tauros, use earthquake!’ shouts Youngjo, and Hwanwoong grabs Seoho’s arm as the ground beneath them starts to judder.

Someone in the crowd screams.

The clay cracks and Chikorita races away, but as Tauros charges, she darts right.

‘Chikorita has left the boundary line!’ announces the referee. ‘Tauros wins the first match!’

The opponent glowers and returns Chikorita to her Poké Ball before launching a Zubat. It flutters up overhead, all the way up to the metal beams which support the pyramid-like room. Hwanwoong curses under his breath. Tauros will struggle badly against a Pokémon like Zubat, against whom moves like Earthquake will have no effect. A flash of blue and the Pokémon flaps its wings to move higher and higher, before turning down and launching at the disorientated Tauros.

The bull Pokémon swings out of the way, but it is not quick enough for the swifter, smaller of the two, which makes contact at its side. ‘Tauros, use your Sunny Day!’ calls Youngjo, and his voice is still calm. The move confuses Hwanwoong, because it will not to damage to Zubat, but when the bright light fills the room, he realises the strategy. He covers his eyes, almost blinded. Zubat is a cave Pokémon, and it does not respond well to the light. It careers down at Tauros in a final attack, and the bull Pokémon crumples, but –

‘Zubat wins the second battle!’

\- Youngjo was preparing for the rest of the fight. A marathon, not a sprint. With the Zubat disorientated by the beams of sunlight, Raven picks it out of the sky in a second as she emerges from her Poké Ball.

‘Umbreon wins the third battle!’

The crowd gives a sigh of relief when the sunlight dims at last and they can all make out the battleground again. Hwanwoong is particularly relieved; his sight is a sense he relies on more than others. With a jolt, he realises that Youngjo only needs to win one more battle before he is through to the next round, and he turns his eyes to the opponent trainer Yeojin. She launches her last Poké Ball, and out bursts a leafy Burmy.

Hwanwoong grabs Seoho’s hand and grips it in a vice. It would be perfect if Youngjo could end the match now, protect Mantine’s stamina for a future round. This small battle could be vital. Youngjo pauses for a moment in contemplation, but Raven doesn’t pause. It’s no surprise. Raven is experience, more experienced than any other Pokémon or any of the trainers in this whole competition; more experienced than Youngjo. She acts on instinct, performing her agility around the edges of the arena before closing in. Her delicate black paws barely leave marks in the clay.

‘Come on Raven!’ shouts Hwanwoong happily, before he even realises he’s doing it. He’s on his feet and he hears Keonhee shout something too from the bench behind him.

‘Raven, use your Feint Attack!’ Before the Burmy even has a chance to catch the Umbreon in its vision, Raven has darted across in front of it and launched an attack to one side. When Burmy reacts, she quickly changes direction and leaps atop it, knocking it back to the clay with a swipe of her claws.

The scuffle has Hwanwoong clenching his fists in nerves and then –

‘Umbreon wins the fourth battle! Yeojin has no more usable Pokémon. Hwanwoong wins the match!’

The real Hwanwoong cheers so hard that his voice turns hoarse, but he can’t stop the thrill of excitement that rises up from his belly to his chest. One round down. That’s one step closer to the title, even if it’s only the preliminaries, and Youngjo and his Pokémon did not break a sweat. Yeojin kicks angrily at the clay while Hwanwoong clambers down from the benches and runs to Youngjo.

‘Youngjo, you did so good!’ he yelps.

‘Shh,’ hushes Youngjo, and Hwanwoong doesn’t really hear it but he sees him press a finger to his lips.

He realises what he said, and realises too that he cannot call Youngjo by his name so long as there are other people around. Not ever. He claps a hand over his mouth and then crouches down for Raven to leap into his arms in a hug, congratulating her instead. His heart pounds against his chest in excitement.

The games have begun.

~

‘I do think you should look around for a grass or bug Pokémon,’ starts Seoho, ‘there’s a gap in - ’

_Crash!_

They both swivel around and Hwanwoong cringes as he watches Tauros be thrown back into the ground. Youngjo is battling with Keonhee, a safe distance away, and every few moments there is a catastrophic explosion. Keonhee’s Pokémon are powerful, powerful like Umbreon, the most powerful that Hwanwoong has yet seen in the flesh. Geonhak, meanwhile, is practising with Dongju at a lower volume, but the sound still interrupts their conversation every couple of minutes.

Seoho is fishing, experimenting with a cheap rod that he picked up in the city. Hwanwoong is watching Poliwag battle with some of the Lotad at the lake’s edge, though really it’s less like battling and more like playing.

‘ – a gap in your team,’ continues Seoho. ‘And they usually aren’t too difficult to catch.’

‘I guess,’ says Hwanwoong, but he’s loathe to stray from his battling friends for too long. Keeping an eye on Youngjo is a task he has assigned for himself; for the duration of the tournament, he is manager in chief.

The sun beams down on them, bathing them in light that promises the oncoming summer. A little out of town, this small park is the perfect place to train _and_ relax. Geonhak assembled a picnic from the hotel buffet before they left, a buffet that Hwanwoong has been steadily nibbling at for quite some time. Growlithe raced off ten minutes ago with something resembling chicken in his teeth.

Glistening under the morning sun, the smooth lake reflects the blue sky and Hwanwoong watches for little ripples that could suggest the presence of fish Pokémon. Murmurs of activity whistle loud enough from the surrounding trees to make him turn his head; they are teeming with life, and he contemplates standing after all to go to seek out a grass Pokémon. He pulls out a Poké Ball and calls Growlithe back over, before setting off at a confident pace towards the tree line.

The sunlight dapples in amongst the thin canopy of leaves, and he remembers meeting Youngjo in the forest before. Pushing his shoulders back, he scans his eyes around for any indication of movement. The quality of his vision is a useful tool in the camouflaged landscape, all green and brown and seamless, but Hwanwoong spots the seams. He sees the way that leaves brush across one another, and that shapes shuffle their position. He sees little disturbances of dust in the air, watches the specks like tiny stars as they drift in a mist. Holding his breath as if that will help ground him at the very centre of the scene, he swivels around and then –

‘Growlithe, tackle!’ he shouts.

A Pokémon has bolted out in front of them, skipping on two legs with a proud arch in its back. The leafy green tail swishes and curves up as it turns to meet Growlithe’s attack. Dark yellow frames its confident eyes, and Hwanwoong knows that this Pokémon is quite different to any in his team. Growlithe leaps atop the Snivy, and they roll away into the undergrowth. Jogging after them, Hwanwoong’s feels his heart start to pound with the excitement of the chase, and he lifts up his Poké Ball.

Snivy leaps out of the shrubbery and launches at him, followed by a biting Growlithe. Hwanwoong falls backwards with a gasp and rolls onto his side. When Growlithe has managed to pin the snapping Pokémon, he launches the ball from the ground and watches as it arcs through the air. Red light bursts in front of him and the ball hits the layer of twigs on the forest floor.

The ball wriggles and wobbles and twists on the spot and Hwanwoong holds his breath. When it finally sits still, he exhales, and flops back onto the ground, staring up at the trees.

‘Nicely done.’

He tilts his head back and then jerks into a sitting position when he sees Youngjo grinning. He’s leant against one of the trees, Raven pacing in a figure of eight around them. ‘Youngjo!’ Hwanwoong scrambles to his feet.

‘Not very graceful, but a catch nonetheless. A very Hwanwoongie kind of catch.’

‘ _Hyung_!’

Youngjo crosses over and picks up the Poké Ball, throwing it to his other hand and holding it up in front of his face. ‘A Snivy, too. They can be tricky little things. Once they evolve, though, they can become quite a force for battle. Serperior would be a very good addition to your team. Assuming that you still want to battle, that is?’

‘I do,’ he huffs. A part of him wants to do it just to prove everyone else wrong. ‘One day, my Growlithe will evolve into Arcanine and _then_ everyone will have to worry.’

With a grin, Youngjo tosses him the Poké Ball and picks up Growlithe instead, who fits snugly in his arms. ‘I’d like to see that. I’d like to see you both become fierce.’ In response, Growlithe bites his finger and Youngjo winces, but leaves it there for the puppy Pokémon to chew on.

Hwanwoong sits back down on the forest floor and examines the Poké Ball. His clothes are already covered in dust and dirt, so it cannot hurt. ‘How was battling with Keonhee?’

‘Fun,’ shrugs Youngjo, sitting down too. ‘We’re going to go again in a bit.’

‘I wish I could be more help, like if I had more powerful Pokémon too.’

Youngjo squeezes his shoulder and then cups his face with a reassuring hand. ‘You’ve been more help than anyone.’

‘What’s it like, hyung, being in Team Rocket?’ he asks. Why this question emerges at this moment, he does not know, but he has been thinking about it for a while. ‘I mean where do you live? What do you do every day? Do you have a boss?’

Youngjo looks up at the sky, fragmented by the canopy, and hums in thought. His fingers stroke lazily through Growlithe’s fur. ‘It depends on where you’re assigned, what your responsibilities are. Everyone starts off as a grunt, which is the lowest of the low, and it’s where most people stay. You have no freedom, you have to stay living at our base camps, and you have to keep to strict schedules. It’s like being in the army. The roles are set, you have a quota for Pokémon to steal or money to make. It has its perks; you’re kind of faceless, which means that people don’t remember you, they don’t hold you to a high level of accountability.’

‘Right,’ Hwanwoong nods, rapt with attention.

‘For those few grunts that show particular promise, you can be promoted to an agent. The hierarchy is pretty simple; anyone who’s been an agent for longer is above you, and anyone who’s been an agent for less time is below you. There are special agents, who oversee operations and can direct us around. My commanding officer, so to say, is called Agent Sun.’

‘He’s the one that does this?’ Hwanwoong reaches up to brush the bruise on Youngjo’s face with gentle fingers.

‘Mostly. Being an agent means more responsibility. I still have a quota but it’s more lax because I often have bigger things to be concentrating on. There’s less actual discipline. More freedom, if it could be called that. We mostly stay in safe-houses, like the one you saw in the city, or we just bounce around. I’ve slept on street corners, I’ve paid for rooms, I’ve done a bit of everything. When something big is going on, we get called to arms.’

‘Big like what?’

‘I’m supposed to travel to Seoul in a few weeks. They’re transporting this elixir to the docks, and they want plenty of agents in attendance.’

‘What elixir?’ asks Hwanwoong, thinking about what Officer Jennie had said about a stolen serum.

‘I don’t know. It’s not in my job description to ask questions. I stole it from a medical laboratory, so I’d guess it’s something to do with healing or strength, in Pokémon. Team Rocket develop all sorts of formulas in the labs; it’s not unusual to steal something for analysis. They’ll send it overseas, to the bigger labs.’

‘Where are the bigger labs?’

‘There are a few around.’

‘If you win the tournament, you won’t have to go, right? Because you’ll have bought your freedom by then?’

Youngjo looks down and picks up Growlithe to settle him into Hwanwoong’s lap instead. Not meeting Hwanwoong’s eyes as he talks, his eyes flicker around the trees. ‘Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t get the feeling it’ll be that easy.’

‘But they have to let you go! It’s your contract!’

‘Oh they’ll let me go,’ says Youngjo, ‘if they have to. The whole system falls apart if other agents and grunts realise they’ve got no chance of making it out. I’m just saying it won’t necessarily be easy. I’m sure that there will be at least some resistance.’

‘But you’ll be okay?’

Youngjo stands and ruffles the back of Hwanwoong’s hair. ‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Besides, that’s a long way away yet. There are a lot of ifs involved. This is all assuming I can get through the next round, and the round after that, and the round after that. There are some good trainers in the tournament. You’ve got one of them in your camp.’

‘Dongju?’

‘Mm,’ nods Youngjo. ‘Seoho and Geonhak are decent, but they’re not at the level to win a competition like this yet. Dongju will have a good shot at it though, if he can hold his nerve. That Raichu is dangerous, in a good way. And I’m sure Dongju isn’t the only one. There will be a lot of trainers in the competition who have been training for as long as he has, if not longer. Some parents send their kids away at eleven. And I wouldn’t be surprised if there was some cheating going on, too.’

‘Technically, we’re cheating,’ says Hwanwoong.

‘Technically, yes,’ he nods, pulling Hwanwoong to his feet. ‘But I’m with Team Rocket. That’s my job.’

They walk back to the edge of the small lake together, their shoulders bumping, and find Seoho and Geonhak engaged in a fierce battle. The sun is reaching higher and higher in the sky, nearing its apex. While the others fight, Hwanwoong returns to the picnic and pulls out some rice balls to pass to Youngjo; he is enjoying watching him eat. Inside the Poké Ball at his belt, Snivy waits to meet the rest of the family. Hwanwoong is more impatient – he wants to show off his new catch.

‘Where did you two go wandering off to?’ asks Keonhee, summoned by the sight of food.

‘Pokémon hunting! I caught a Snivy!’ Hwanwoong announces in a voice loaded with pride.

‘Nice,’ grins Keonhee. ‘And you, Youngjo?’

‘I followed him,’ answers Youngjo, like this is the most obvious explanation in the world. It must be, because no one ever questions it.

‘You’re like Plusle and Minun, these days. It’s rare to see you apart.’

Hwanwoong feels his cheeks turn pink. So that he doesn’t have to say anything, he crams rice into his mouth and concentrates on wrapping more food for Youngjo. It isn’t easy, when Growlithe keeps trying to snatch it from his fingers. After a moment, Umbreon too is strolling to his side and nudging her nose at the contents of the picnic basket.

‘Which one’s Plusle and which one’s Minun?’ asks Dongju. He walks with a swagger, and Hwanwoong knows that his confidence has been boosted by both their victory over Team Rocket, and his easy win in the preliminaries.

‘I’m Plusle, he’s Minun,’ says Youngjo with neither hesitation nor elaboration. He seems to be rather enjoying himself.

These are the moments that Hwanwoong knows he should memorise, out in the sun with his five friends. He lays down on his back and blinks up at the sky, listening to them talk. Tomorrow, Youngjo will battle again. The next day, Seoho and Geonhak and Dongju will all have their second preliminary rounds. And he’ll be Minun, the cheerleading Pokémon, unable to help but yelling from the side-lines. He hums and watches a fluffy white cloud drift in front of the sun. The momentary shade is pleasant, and he closes his eyes to feel the cool air on his face. 

At the bottom of his bag is a journal, but he’s forgotten to write in it these last few days. In fact, he’s forgotten to write in it since he started his Pokémon journey altogether. Every night he’s sprawled into bed and fallen straight asleep, exhausted by the activity. He knows that his body isn’t the same as the others’, that he needs more rest, but he can’t find it in himself to stop running ragged in his efforts to keep up with them all. Sighing, he steals a nap in this moment.

Even when he drifts into half-sleep, he can feel Youngjo moving around beside him, talking animatedly, nothing at all like the Youngjo that he met back in Busan. He’s blooming like a flower.

Hwanwoong only prays that someone doesn’t try to chop him down somewhere along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooooo ^0^ new chapter time!! Did I mention before that this fic was only supposed to be 20-24k, but this chapter takes it over the 50k mark? And we’re nowhere near done?? What am I like :’) Thank you so much to everyone who is supporting the work, I really never expected anyone else to be interested in my Pokémon au other than me!!

The first week of the competition races by in a blur, and Hwanwoong is once again caught in a feeling that he is a spectator in his own life. This time, the sensation is quite literal, as he watches Youngjo stand in the centre of the battleground wearing his name like a badge; it’s surreal, vaguely discomforting, and gives him a permanent knot of tension in the pit of his stomach. The further into the competition that his friends advance, the more difficult that the battles start to become, and what was breezy confidence a week ago becomes worry.

It is not long before the field starts to thin out, and the trainers who are left are intimidating, more so than Hwanwoong expected. They come in all different forms. On Wednesday, he watches a boy who must be six years younger than Dongju, three inches shorter than Hwanwoong, scrawny and unnoticeable outside of the arena, who wipes out his opponent with a gaint Machamp and Feraligatr. On Friday, he watches a trainer well over six foot and built like a tank, bare-chested and all muscle, wile his way around his foe with an innocent looking but mean Jigglypuff, and a tiny but vicious Scorbunny.

During the battles, Hwanwoong takes out his journal and starts to write down notes. It makes him feel useful. At some point, his friends might come up against these trainers, and the only way he can help is by having as much knowledge as possible.

The tips of his hair start to singe during a ferocious fire-on-fire battle, and his clothes drench through to his skin while he observes a Pelipper. During one indoor battle, Dongju’s Raichu’s Thunderbolt is so powerful that the lights overhead explode, and it is agreed by the competition organisers that Dongju can only compete in the open-air arenas going forward. Never before has Hwanwoong seen so many different Pokémon in one place. Never before has he seen so many trainers.

As a debut competition, most of the competitors are young, but there are some older trainers too who have begun their journeys later, and they give Hwanwoong confidence that it isn’t too late. One trainer he watches has grey hair and his Purrloin has grey whiskers too, but they cruise through the second and third round. The youngest trainer that Hwanwoong sees is only twelve, which he has heard is the minimum age for the competition.

Everything feels like watching a movie, until Seoho’s elimination, and the world crashes back down from the sky and Hwanwoong stares, mouth open. As the mean, small Aron knocks out an exhausted Skitty, and the opponent is declared the winner, Hwanwoong jumps out of his seat in a panic. This hall is bigger than the location for the preliminaries, so he has to run down steps to get to the battleground amongst the chaos of battle ending. All of the fans pile down to get to the next battle, across the road.

‘Seoho!’ Hwanwoong shouts.

Seoho has sat down in the middle of the pitch, cradling Skitty’s form in his arms. His nose buries in her fur, and Hwanwoong slows down.

He pushes past some of the people who have taken a shortcut across the battleground and crouches down beside him. ‘Seoho? Shall we go to the Pokémon Centre?’ he says quietly. There’s nothing else to say. There’s no way to make him feel any better about losing. ‘Seoho?’

His friend looks up with a sniff and nods. He holds the wounded Skitty against him and stands on shaky legs. ‘The others won’t know where we are,’ he says. Keonhee and Youngjo are with Dongju, while Geonhak is preparing for his battle in half an hour’s time.

‘I’ll send them a text message,’ says Hwanwoong. ‘Do you want me to carry - ’

‘No!’ Seoho holds Skitty close with an expression of horror. ‘She needs me!’

Hwanwoong swallows and nods. It’s not right seeing Skitty unconscious, when she is usually the first to prowl around investigating ahead of them. As he watches Seoho stroke the soft pink fur on her back, he thinks again about Youngjo’s questions, about whether or not battling is where he sees his future. Growlithe has never been knocked out before. Hwanwoong imagines how it would feel to hold his Pokémon, limp in his arms like that, and he feels sick.

As they travel to the Pokémon Centre, Growlithe trots behind them with a calmer expression than usual, like he knows that something serious has happened. It would feel all wrong to send him into a battle against super experienced trainers like the ones in this tournament. Hwanwoong shudders at the thought of watching brutal attacks rain down upon him.

More often than not, Growlithe just wants to play.

‘You battled really well,’ he tells Seoho, who has not spoken during the entire walk. ‘You can’t blame yourself for losing. Some of the trainers in this competition are just too strong, way more experienced. They probably have loads and loads of gym badges. Youngjo said sometimes they cheat and sign up even though they’ve been in competitions before, and that’s not supposed to be allowed.’

Seoho nods, but Hwanwoong can tell that the words mean nothing to him.

‘So much of it comes down to luck in the individual match. Sometimes attacks just landing differently. That Aron was really tiring and I think if the match had gone on for a couple of minutes longer then - ’

‘Woong, you don’t have to,’ says Seoho, and he falls silent.

The next two days pass with a definite tension in the hotel that they are all sharing. Youngjo and Dongju cruised through their matches once again, but Geonhak only scraped through his battle, and Seoho is obviously uncomfortable having been the first of them to be eliminated. He mopes around, especially during the first day as Skitty was kept in the Pokémon Centre, and while he is supportive enough of his friends, Hwanwoong can still tell that it has bothered him.

Keonhee has taken over as the mood-maker of the team, broad smile and ridiculous jokes bringing some smiles at the breakfast table, but the tension is there. Seoho is miserable, Geonhak is stressed about his neck round after the close shave, and Dongju and Youngjo have begun to… quieten down. They’re focussed. Hwanwoong gets the impression that they’re not treating the competition like a game anymore.

There are 128 contestants left in the competition.

If they pass through this next round, then they will be in the top 64.

Then the top 32.

 _Then_ the top 16.

And from there, the real fight begins. Quarter-finals, semi-finals, and then the grand final. The date is set, already. Keonhee has promised that a friend of a friend will be able to get them the best seats in the house. The final will take place in the huge stadium right at the centre of town, and they will have had only one or two tastes of its vast interior before that day. From the quarter-finals, they will start to battle on the different terrains offered by the larger arenas.

Hwanwoong is sure that Youngjo needs to catch another Pokémon to fill any of the gaps in his team before that stage, but Youngjo seems to be focussed only on the next battle in front of him, now, at any given moment.

‘Shall we go to watch Dongju today?’ asks Hwanwoong over breakfast. ‘Keonhee and Seoho are going to support Geonhak.’

‘Sure,’ nods Youngjo. ‘I like watching him battle.’

Hwanwoong chews on his pancake and looks down at the table, wondering if Youngjo would like watching him too, if he could battle.

The walk to the small arena is quick, but made longer by the silence. Dongju is muttering to himself, too low for Hwanwoong to hear, and Youngjo has returned to his less verbose form, too. They stop outside the arena with a jolt when Hwanwoong notices four police officers on bikes. Growlithe, excited, has already bounded over to meet another Growlithe, who belongs to one of the officers and appears to be focused on work and more than a little irritated by the young intruder.

Dongju glances up at Youngjo, the latter with a prominent muscle working in his jaw. ‘Come on,’ says Dongju, ‘let’s just keep walking.’

Even more than the two of them, though, Hwanwoong has _frozen_. He waits, rooted to the spot, and gulps as he spots Officer Jennie chatting to one of the other officers. This is a complication that he had not foreseen. How could he have been so stupid? Torn between hurrying into the arena, or turning around and running away, he hesitates for too long.

‘Yeo Hwanwoong!’ she calls with a smile, and his stomach does a backflip.

Youngjo’s eyes drag to him, wide and fearful. Of course there was one person in the city who definitely knew Hwanwoong’s identity, and one person who would not be quick to believe that there was more than one person with his name wandering around at his side. Whether or not cheating is illegal in the technical sense, if they are caught messing around with the competition, Hwanwoong knows it will draw serious attention to them. Attention that Youngjo cannot afford.

‘Hi, Officer Jennie,’ he says in a robotic voice. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘We have had a tip-off that there could be activity from Team Rocket in the area today,’ she says, looking at Dongju and then Youngjo. ‘Don’t you boys worry, though, we’ve got everything under control! All four of our special taskforce are in attendance.’

Hwanwoong works very hard not to glance at Youngjo. ‘Oh,’ he makes a sound, because he doesn’t know what to say. ‘Are you going to be watching the battle today, then?’

‘Not me,’ she says, ‘I’m going to keep patrol outside the arena. Officer Jisoo will be taking charge of activity in the arena.’

‘Cool,’ Hwanwoong says nervously. Today, they are only watching Dongju, but if the police are around during any one of Youngjo’s battles then they could be in _big_ trouble. He gulps and tries not to think that far ahead.

‘Are you and your friends enjoying the activities?’

‘Definitely! It’s… super fun.’

‘Well make sure you keep your guard up. At any big tournaments like this, there is a risk of Team Rocket interference. Keep an eye out for anyone who could be an agent, and if you see anything suspicious then contact one of the four of us immediately!’

Hwanwoong nods. ‘Yeah. Sure. We’ll keep our eyes open.’

They don’t say anything at all as they shuffle into the arena, through the main front gates. Hwanwoong’s stomach is doing somersaults. Only when they’re in the lobby and Dongju hurries over to the registration, does Youngjo raise his eyebrows without looking at him and say, ‘I didn’t realise you were such good friends with the police.’

‘I’m not!’ he says quickly, cheeks turning scarlet. ‘Officer Jennie is the officer who arrived to help me when _you_ tried to steal my Growlithe!’

Youngjo looks at him then, eyes dark at the mention of the past, and Hwanwoong regrets sounding so accusatory. ‘They know your name!’

‘Look, let’s not worry about it now. We’ll deal with it later!’

Running a hand through his hair, Youngjo shakes his head and curses under his breath. ‘It’s a miracle they don’t know my face, or that would’ve been the end of us. You’re associated with me too, remember? I have to worry about getting you into trouble, not just myself.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t worry about me at all!’ huffs Hwanwoong. ‘What was she talking about? The tip-off? Are Team Rocket going to attack here today?’

‘No,’ Youngjo shakes his head, ‘not that I’ve heard. I don’t make a habit of listening to whisperings from grunts, but I’d know if something bigger was going down. Sounds like they’ve got a false lead.’

Hwanwoong relaxes a little. ‘Well that’s good.’

They stand in a corner, waiting for the doors to open, trying to keep as far away from everyone else as possible. The crowds are increasing with each new round, and Hwanwoong is beginning to recognise a lot of the trainers and fans who come to the matches. That means they’re starting to recognise him too. Sometimes they wave in his direction. If it weren’t for having to keep his identity top secret, he thinks he would want to make friends with some of them.

‘Youngjo, can I ask you something?’ he whispers.

‘Go for it,’ says Youngjo, low but looking straight at him so that Hwanwoong can read it on his lips.

He has become aware, over the last couple of weeks, that Youngjo is careful with the way that he talks to him. He has replaced sound responses like hums and whistles with non-verbal gestures, like shaking his head, and with full words that Hwanwoong can read when they’re in a noisy environment.

‘When Dongju’s Pokémon were stolen, we thought that it was this innkeeper that sold us out, someone we stayed with in Daegu. Officer Jennie went to see him while we were there,’ he says over the chatter of the forming crowds. ‘But he denied it. Do you know who would have betrayed us?’

‘You’d better not be talking about the innkeeper I think you’re talking about, Woongie,’ he answers in a warning tone, ‘or you could’ve been in big trouble!’

‘We didn’t know!’ his voice rises in pitch, defensive. ‘So you’re saying it was him?’

‘No, no. He’s no Team Rocket mole. But he’s involved with a lot of dangerous people and he plays a very dangerous tune.’

‘Tell me.’

Youngjo glances around to check that they are not being overheard, then sighs. ‘A lot goes in and out of that Inn. Not just Pokémon trade, but other bad things. Everyone knows he talks to the police, but he talks to criminals too. Both sides tolerate it, because he offers valuable services. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up dead or arrested one way or the other. That’s why you should stay well away. But he won’t have sold out your Pokémon, I can promise you that.’

‘Then who?’

‘Could’ve just been bad luck.’

‘But why would they have taken Dongju’s Pokémon and not mine, if they just happened across our hotel?’

Youngjo muses for a moment. ‘There are Rocket spies everywhere. I know we – they – infiltrated the registration system. If someone registered that Raichu for competition, then they will have had an eye on it.’

This, Hwanwoong knows, was always a possibility. He bites his lip. ‘I hate this. I wonder how many other people in the competition have had their Pokémon stolen, or at least been involved in near-misses?’

A guilty expression on his face, Youngjo fiddles with his fingers. ‘There are more misses than successes. It’s not easy stealing Pokémon. The chances are low. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this is something you have to associate with me.’

‘I hadn’t thought - ’ Hwanwoong starts, and he means it, because he hadn’t intended to make Youngjo feel bad, but at that moment the doors to the small inner arena open and Youngjo grabs him by the shoulders to propel him forwards before they are crushed by the crowd.

There is no assigned seating, so they manage to get to one of the second-row seats towards the middle of the pitch. Dongju is already in his spot at the east end, chatting with confidence to the referee and playing with his first Poké Ball in one hand. Excited murmurs fill the high-ceilinged space as people move to take their seats – there are at least fifteen rows around the length of the battleground and very few empty spaces. Though they are still relatively far from the end of the competition, Hwanwoong gets the impression that people have heard about Dongju.

He looks down at the other end of the battleground and sees that the opponent is the young boy that he’s watched once before. The boy with Machamp and Feraligatr. As of yet, Hwanwoong has not seen a third of his Pokémon. Raichu will be powerful against Feraligatr but much less so against Machamp, and if Dongju wishes to fight with him then he’ll have to think outside the box of his usual Electric attacks.

The other Pokémon that Hwanwoong has seen battle from Dongju’s team so far are Nidorino, the twin of his brother’s Pokémon Nidorina, which Dongju told him were gifted to them when they were kids; a tall and serene-looking Gardevoir; and a quick-witted Vulpix. Having watched the previous battles of his opponent, Hwanwoong would definitely select Gardevoir for this battle to take down Machamp.

Sure enough, Dongju begins the battle with Gardevoir.

With each passing round, the battles have become more difficult to watch. The Pokémon are quicker, often more subtle in strategy, but the attacks are so aggressive that Hwanwoong ends up wincing and closing his eyes, worried that some of the Pokémon will get hurt. Watching the battles in the flesh is very different to watching them on television. Now, he can hear every crunch of contact or the crackle of electricity or the rough twist of tornadoes that form up by the rafters.

Machamp and Gardevoir are poised like sun and snow, day and night, as different as two Pokémon can be. Though they are almost identical in height, the muscled fighting type Pokémon takes up more space as it flexes and charges. Dust from the ground flies up into the air as it roars and stamps, but Gardevoir is tranquil, drifting from its path with ease. Her movements are measured but quick. As the challenge goes on, Hwanwoong notices that her body has started to glow purple.

The other trainer doesn’t seem to have noticed. He keeps sending his Pokémon forwards. Hwanwoong thinks it’s a symptom of his young age – his strategy is all about attack, whereas the Machamp would benefit more from protecting itself against the oncoming attack. Sure enough, Hwanwoong covers his eyes as bright purple light streams from Gardevoir and the Psybeam shoots through the chest of Machamp. The Pokémon falls back, unconscious, in a second.

‘Gardevoir wins the first battle!’

The second battle is more challenging. The boy throws out a Steelix, with mean gnashing steel teeth and a terrifying leer. It defeats Dongju’s Gardevoir with little instruction from its trainer, and Hwanwoong chews his lip. With a nervous glance up at Youngjo, he sees that his friend is leant forwards in his seat, analysing every small movement.

Hwanwoong knows this turn of events will have frustrated Dongju. He has chosen Vulpix and Raichu for the battle. Raichu’s Electric type moves will be no use at all, which means that he must trust in Vulpix to take down Steelix. However, Vulpix will be eliminated by Feraligatr, leaving Raichu to have to come to finish the job. There is a clear path to victory, but Hwanwoong knows it’s a frustration having to damage the health of all of your Pokémon when the battles are coming thick and fast; Dongju would surely have preferred to keep at least one of his team back.

Sure enough, the battle goes exactly how Hwanwoong imagined it.

He finds his hand jumps out and grabs at Youngjo when the tiny Vulpix scoots her way around the giant Steelix, and then he turns scarlet when he realises that he has grabbed his thigh and quickly moves his hands back to his own lap. He winces and lets out a groan with the rest of the crowd when Vulpix is defeated then by Feraligatr. And he sits up bolt upright when Raichu appears.

The crowd cheers. They like Raichu. They like Dongju. Hwanwoong can tell.

This final sector of the battle is not as smooth as Hwanwoong imagined it. The Feraligatr is physically strong, and throws Raichu back in a crushing grip before Raichu can even build up its Electric power. There’s a _crash_ of bodies on earth and Hwanwoong jumps again, almost landing in Youngjo’s lap. Youngjo steadies him with a gentle hand on his arm.

As the battle rages on, Hwanwoong frowns. Feraligatr is targeting Raichu’s left side, over and over, and Raichu seems slower to react there. The opponent Pokémon is smart, lunging with jabs and swipes with its claws that Raichu cannot necessarily avoid. While they grapple, Hwanwoong slides his hand into his bag and pulls out his notebook. He is not sure why he does it. In fact, it feels traitorous to do it, but he opens to the most recent page and scribbles down:

_Raichu: Weakness on left side._

By the time that he looks up, Raichu’s face is starting to crackle with yellow sparks of electricity. The Feraligatr is fierce, clawing at the soft yellow fur and Hwanwoong sees it cut, but there is nothing it can do to stop the coming attack. As the Thunder builds, Hwanwoong swallows and tucks his legs up onto the seat in anxiety. Watching these explosive attacks at such close quarters makes him feel sick. He does not like watching any Pokémon suffer.

‘Raichu, use Thunder!’ shouts Dongju, and Hwanwoong looks away.

However, before the explosion hits, the young trainer opposite yells out ‘Feraligatr, return!’

And with a burst of red light, the match is forfeited.

Someone in the row in front mutters a complaint that they won’t get to see the final blow, and Hwanwoong shakes his head. There is no reason to make the Pokémon fight any longer when the victory is guaranteed for Raichu. Relieved, Hwanwoong unclenches each of his muscles and lowers his feet back to the ground.

‘Dongju and Raichu are the winners, and will advance to the next round!’

The young boy who has lost looks very small, now. His age shows in the disappointment on his face. However, like young people do, he tilts his chin up in confidence and reaches out his hand to shake Dongju’s. There will be plenty of time, Hwanwoong thinks, for this kid to evolve into a champion.

‘I wouldn’t want to come up against that Raichu,’ says Youngjo. ‘I can see why he forfeited, to avoid Feraligatr getting hurt.’

‘Yeah, I get it too,’ Hwanwoong nods.

Now does not feel like the right time to tell Youngjo that Raichu has a weak left side.

~

Youngjo watches Hwanwoong sleep, and wonders if he can ever be forgiven for what he has dragged him into. If they had never met, Youngjo thinks that Hwanwoong would be enjoying the competition right now, maybe knocked out in round one, cheering on his friends. Instead, every evening until late Hwanwoong is up watching him train, and during every battle he’s writing down notes that he thinks will help him. Thanks to Youngjo, and his inability to stay away from what he is drawn to, Hwanwoong is breaking the rules and very likely the law.

He sips his drink and then lays down in his own bed, unable to sleep for the thoughts racing around in his own mind. Hwanwoong rolls onto his side and lets out a sigh. His face is vulnerable, younger in sleep, and his messy hair falls over his forehead. Squashed up against his side, Growlithe snoozes too, orange fur rippling with every rise and fall of his back. Youngjo forces himself to turn onto his back and stare up at the ceiling instead. The plain white is an easier canvas to think on.

He passed through his latest round without much difficulty, a round that saw Dongju win another popular victory, but which knocked out Geonhak in a hail of ice attacks. The arenas are getting bigger. There are more eyes on him. The competition is more brutal and there is so much at stake, so very much. Unable to even close his eyes, Youngjo kicks his covers away and stands.

He dresses, collects his bag, and looks back at Hwanwoong as he prepares to leave the hotel. Dongju is asleep, too, flat on his back with his arms relaxed. Youngjo longs to cross over and brush Hwanwoong’s hair from his eyes, but he cannot risk waking him, so he turns away and lets himself out of the room.

The middle of the night is a time that he enjoys. Youngjo does not like the dark, nor does he like the light, but he finds the shadows are home and he can move around the city with the reassurance of the moonlight to bring comfort to his worry. Outside, he breathes in the warm night air and closes his eyes for a moment to allow that freedom to wash over him. Being around Hwanwoong and his friends has been a unique experience for him, one that he has found both comforting and stifling. Until recently, Youngjo only worked alone.

Hwanwoong keeps telling him that he needs to catch another Pokémon. Hwanwoong has a lot of opinions, on what gap he needs to fill in his team, but Youngjo is certain himself that he needs a ground-type Pokémon. Watching Dongju battle has unnerved him. There is no Pokémon in his team that would be able to withstand an Electric attacks like Thunder or Thunderbolt from a Pokémon like Raichu. It’s a vulnerability that he’s painfully aware of. But there’s nowhere close with any caves or rocky landscapes, where he might be able to catch a ground-type.

He frowns as he paces the streets.

It’s so late that even most of the festival-goers have returned home. As he walks, in the shadows he spots one woman slinking around, head turned down and clothes all black and grey. She’s Team Rocket, a grunt, he can tell from the way that she moves. Being surrounded by this kind for so long has given him a kind of radar. He passes by without drawing attention to himself before crossing the street to a better-lit area. One group of tourists passes by, all wearing Gengar hats, and from what he can hear from the whispering tour-guide, they are on some kind of Ghost-Pokémon walk.

By instinct, Youngjo fades back into the shadows as a distant siren starts up, but the police car does not head in his direction. Resting his head back against the wall, he reminds himself not to act so paranoid in public. This is exactly the kind of thing that will draw attention to him, and make him more likely to be caught. As far as he knows, the taskforce are off his back for a while if only to focus on the other Team Rocket activity in the area, but he ought not take any chances.

Not when he’s already putting himself at enough risk.

Youngjo will battle again tomorrow, to fight for his chance in the top 32. Dongju will compete the day after. Keonhee and Seoho and Geonhak will all attend to watch Dongju’s match, so there’s no reason why he couldn’t steal Hwanwoong away…

A shuttle bus leaves the city to travel to the nearest cave formations twice a day. Youngjo does not want to go by himself, but bringing Hwanwoong with him could tempt him. It wouldn’t feel right to spend a whole day now without Hwanwoong’s constant chattering in his ear. Besides, Hwanwoong has a remarkable ability to spot small movements, little signs of Pokémon nearby, that other people fail to notice. His eyesight is keen. He could be very helpful.

There’s a tinge of summer rain in the air. Youngjo runs his hand through his hair to push it back, and it sticks away from his face, allowing his skin to take in the coolness of the rain.

Umbreon flits around his feet, eyeing the alley-cats and the Rattata as they make their claim on the city at night. It is Umbreon that stops first, and he looks up, dragging his eyes to meet those of the agent opposite him.

‘What are you doing prowling the streets at this time, RAVN?’

He narrows his eyes. ‘I thought I told you before that it’s my business what I do when I’m not working,’ he says calmly, ‘sir.’

Agent Sun raises his eyebrows. ‘It’s everybody’s business what you’re doing now. You think we haven’t heard about you taking part in the competition? Everybody’s talking about it.’

‘And?’ Youngjo tightens his teeth. He knew that it wouldn’t remain secret for long. ‘There’s no rule against it. Nothing in my contract says that I’m not allowed to compete.’

The agent shrugs and paces the sidewalk in front of him, a clear blocking of his path. ‘I never said that you’re not allowed to compete,’ says Sun. ‘You ought to be very careful, though. You’re playing with fire. And if you get caught then I lose one of my better soldiers. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.’

‘Better soldiers?’ Youngjo puts a smile on his face. ‘Sir, I don’t think you’ve ever paid me a compliment before.’

‘Don’t think that it makes you un-expendable.’

‘I don’t think.’

Agent Sun clears his throat and they both fall silent as a young couple pass. As if they know something is not right, the couple hurry their steps, the man putting an arm around his girlfriend’s back. Once they are a few metres past, Sun tilts his head to the side. ‘Who is the boy?’

‘What boy?’

‘You know who I’m talking about.’

Hwanwoong’s face flashes across his mind and Youngjo’s whole body tenses. This is the risk that he has brought into Hwanwoong’s world. There are people who know him, now, who should not know him at all. ‘A friend.’

‘You’ve never had a friend before.’

‘That’s not against my contract either.’

‘And I didn’t say it was. What’s his name?’

Youngjo shakes his head and turns to walk away. ‘Unless you have something to say to me, I’m off the clock.’

‘Remember who you work for, RAVN!’

He stalks away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and checking that Umbreon is following him before turning down an alley to cut away from the gaze of his superior. His hand lifts to scratch at his bicep through his jacket, because he can feel a burning itch on his tattoo there. It’s all in his head, he knows, but he can’t stop it. That is the tattoo they put on him when they first dragged him to headquarters, the twisted snake Pokémon wrapped around the dying creature in its crushing hold. No matter where he is, he will never forget who he works for.

That is inked on him for life.

~

‘It’s cool that we’re going Pokémon hunting together!’ grins Hwanwoong. ‘It’s like we’re on a date!’ As the words come out, his cheeks flush and he claps a hand over his mouth. What made him say it, he does not know, but there is no swallowing the words back down now. The excitement has been getting to him for most of the last forty-five minutes, which they’ve spent on the shuttle bus, and it bursts free at last. His legs jiggle with the movement of the small bus, and he is squeezed in so close against Youngjo in the tiny seats that it _does_ feel like a date.

‘A date?’ smiles Youngjo. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It’s a figure of speech!’ he squeaks.

‘Would you like it to be a date?’

Hwanwoong doesn’t know what the right answer is, so he just turns his flaming face to the window and rests his cheek against the glass in the hopes of cooling it down. He hears Youngjo snickering, and pulls a face at the window.

‘I wonder how Dongju’s match is going,’ muses Youngjo, after letting Hwanwoong huff to himself for a moment.

‘He’ll text me when it’s done,’ says Hwanwoong. Then, he decides that the more he talks, the more likely it is that Youngjo will forget what he just said, so he readjusts his position in his seat and turns back to him. ‘So why the caves?’

‘I’d like to catch a ground-type Pokémon.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s a gap in my team. And there are some strong Electric types left in the competition.’

‘What Pokémon are you hoping to find?’

‘Dugtrio, Hippopotas, maybe Rhyhorn. That’s why I’ve brought you with me. Ground-type Pokémon can be difficult to spot in amongst the dark and the rocks, and your eyesight is perfect.’

‘That’s the only reason you’ve brought me along?’

‘That, and I like talking to you.’

Relieved, Hwanwoong smiles. ‘Can I ask you something, hyung?’

‘You don’t have to ask for permission every time that you want to know something Woong.’

Conscious that Youngjo might change his mind once he hears the question, he clears his throat. ‘Where do you go at night?’ he asks, biting his lip. The question has been eating away at him for several days now, and he has to know. Every once in a while he wakes up during the night, disorientated, and realises that Youngjo is gone. That his bed is cold. And he doesn’t return until the early hours.

Youngjo pauses, then looks down. ‘I walk.’

‘Just walk?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re not… doing work? You know? For you-know-who?’

‘No,’ he shakes his head, ‘I just like to walk. It clears my head. You know before I met you, I didn’t have many people around me. It’s great, having – having _friends_ – but sometimes it’s too loud for me. I feel like I need to be alone again to charge my batteries back to full capacity.’

‘I get that too,’ nods Hwanwoong, ‘except when it gets too loud, I just take my hearing aids out.’

Youngjo laughs and reaches up to brush Hwanwoong’s hair behind his ear. He shivers at the touch and feels his cheeks start to turn pink again. Goosebumps spill down the back of his head to his spine. ‘I suppose neither of us really knew what it was like to have friends before. I only had Raven, and you only had Growlithe.’

‘But now we have each other. I mean we’re friends right? Like best friends?’

Youngjo smiles, like he’s deciding whether or not to indulge him. Then, he slides his hand down to squeeze Hwanwoong’s leg instead. ‘Of course.’

Hwanwoong settles back into his seat and watches the landscape whip by as they approach the rocky caves. Everyone that they pass, here, is dressed for hiking or exploration, making him feel underdressed in his jeans and sweater, but that doesn’t matter. Out here, away from the city, he can introduce himself to people without worrying about them knowing Youngjo’s identity. There will be lots of ground and rock type Pokémon to see. This will be a good day.

And Youngjo likes talking to him.

That’s always an important bonus to carry around in his backpack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone ^-^ Ahh I’m excited to post this chapter! I just have time to upload it before I have to go to work! A few friends told me that they didn’t receive notifications for the last chapter so please check that you read chapter 9 before starting this one otherwise you might find yourself lost. It’s quite a long one I hope that you enjoy it <3 I had a really good time writing!

The cave formations arch overhead in jagged shapes, giving the impression that they are entering the skeleton of a colossal dragon Pokémon. The spine is a channel of stalactites hanging menacingly above them, and Youngjo keeps a careful eye on Hwanwoong’s back, worried that he is going to disturb something. He looks very small, picking his way amongst the rocks, dressed in denim jeans and a red knitted sweater; Youngjo imagines that someone in his family knitted it for him. His basketball sneakers slip and slide as he climbs over the stone, and more than once Youngjo has to grab him by the waist to keep him upright.

‘This place is amazing!’ Hwanwoong beams though, as if they’ve taken a summer vacation to a beach island. Water drips from blade-like stalactites, falling onto Youngjo’s hair and he brushes it away from his face with the back of his sleeve. The caves are very cold, the early summer outside a distant memory. They are also very dark. Youngjo swivels his torch around and scratches at the back of his neck; the lack of light makes him nervous.

‘You think so?’ he calls back, raising his voice because he is talking from behind and he knows that it’s harder for Hwanwoong when he can’t see his lips. ‘I’m not so sure. It’s creepy.’ To prove his point, a jagged monolith looms into sight and he jumps as the teeth snap his way before realising that they are just protrusions in the rock.

‘I like it.’ Hwanwoong’s voice echoes around every surface. Youngjo worries that they won’t catch a single Pokémon while they’re making this much noise, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell him to be quiet. Listening to Hwanwoong ramble has become a new favourite hobby. The boy talks about everything. If Youngjo keeps quiet, he finds that Hwanwoong will talk for at least half an hour before realising that he hasn’t responded with anything. He talks about Pokémon, about Pokémon battles that he’s watched on TV, about his family and about growing up in his isolation. Youngjo always listens, because he’s not sure that Hwanwoong has ever had someone to listen when he talks like that before.

Youngjo climbs over a small crevice in the rock and catches up to Hwanwoong so that it is easier for them to talk. He’s significantly taller, and Hwanwoong’s shoulder bumps against his arm when they walk astride. He fights the urge to reach up and put his arm around him, because Hwanwoong is struggling with the terrain. No matter how much he tries to hide it, Youngjo has noticed that he is shivering too. ‘You’re cold,’ he says.

‘Am not.’

Youngjo sighs and pulls off his leather jacket to rest it over Hwanwoong’s shoulders instead. ‘I’m not having you get sick again,’ he says, before Hwanwoong can even protest, ‘so don’t argue.’

Hwanwoong huffs. That puff of breath is so familiar that it makes Youngjo smile. The cool air of the cave snaps at his exposed skin but he squares his shoulders back and looks around to distract himself. ‘I really wasn’t that cold,’ Hwanwoong mumbles. Youngjo ignores him.

‘Listen,’ says Youngjo, pausing. ‘Can you hear that?’

Hwanwoong hesitates, then shakes his head. The sound is only quiet, barely audible to Youngjo even, but it’s there. A low rush of running water. He turns his head and listens. They are following no particular path anyway, so he takes Hwanwoong by the elbow and steers him right, keeping that grip to hold him steady when Hwanwoong slips on the wet rocks. _Yes_ , there is water nearby. Hwanwoong takes the torch so that Youngjo can keep hold of him. When Hwanwoong almost falls completely, Youngjo grabs him around the waist and hauls him back.

‘Whoa!’

Hwanwoong nearly drops the torch and makes a high-pitched sound.

‘Got you,’ Youngjo sighs. His hand splays on Hwanwoong’s small waist and he feels the weight of his body back against his chest. ‘You’re so clumsy!’

‘My centre of gravity is low!’

‘Sure,’ Youngjo rolls his eyes and releases him slowly. ‘Shine the torch that way.’

Dutifully, Hwanwoong turns and the beam of light spills off the rivulet to their left, glinting white and gold in the darkness. A foam of bubbles layers the surface whenever the stream changes direction. Up ahead, they find themselves happening upon more little streams like this. The further that they walk, the thicker they become. The noise increases too, until Hwanwoong can hear it, until it starts to press on Youngjo’s ear-drums with unsettling pressure.

A strange orange glow breaks the darkness ahead, and it brings to life the relentless surge of the waterfall. Hwanwoong gasps. A basin of water as wide as any of the smaller caves occupies this skeletal room. From five metres overhead, water churns down, crashing to the pool below. The glow is coming from beneath the surface, and Youngjo hesitates before taking a step forwards, reading to protect Hwanwoong if anything strange lunges at them. For the first time, it is he who walks ahead, an arm stretched out behind him to cover Hwanwoong’s body.

‘What the…’ he starts, examining the surface of the water, before Hwanwoong bounds ahead excitedly and stands on one of the extending rocks. Aghast, Youngjo grabs his hips to hold him, but Hwanwoong is distracted.

‘Chinchou!’ Hwanwoong declares with a tone of absolute thrill.

‘Chinchou?’

‘I should’ve known this! They come to the caves and mountains to breed at this time of year,’ beams Hwanwoong. He leans all the way out over the pool. ‘Look at them!’

Youngjo starts to make sense of the glowing shapes beneath the water’s surface, round blueish Pokémon and gleaming yellow antennae. They are clustered together in a pack, giving the water and the cave an iridescent glow. He has never seen anything like it before. ‘There’s nothing you don’t know about Pokémon, is there?’ he breathes, very close to Hwanwoong. He hooks two fingers through his belt-loops when he leans further, sure that he’s going to fall into the water soon, and tugs him back. ‘Careful! Electricity and water are a dangerous mix!’ Obedient for once, Hwanwoong jumps back down.

‘I had a lot of time to read,’ Hwanwoong answers his prior question.

‘I bet you did,’ Youngjo lets go and squeezes Hwanwoong’s shoulder instead. ‘Do you want to catch a Chinchou?’

‘No, no, we shouldn’t disturb them,’ says Hwanwoong, ‘this ritual is very important for them. Let’s go somewhere else.’ Even in the lowlight, Youngjo can see the excited flush on his cheeks, the thrill of discovering new Pokémon. Not for the first time, Youngjo thinks that Hwanwoong would be better off concentrating on his Pokédex than wasting his time on battling. Perhaps a part of it is the protective edge he feels, too. He doesn’t want to have to watch Hwanwoong suffer in the heat of battle.

Further down one of the cave streams, away from the crashing sound of the waterfall, they sit down. Thus far, they have caught nothing at all, but Youngjo doesn’t protest when Hwanwoong pulls out sandwiches from the hotel buffet, wrapped in foil. He smiles and nods to the water. ‘You could put your feet there, you know.’

Grinning, Hwanwoong pulls off his shoes and socks and dangles his feet down to the water. When one two breaks the surface he gasps. ‘It’s cold!’ But that doesn’t stop him. He lowers both feet and laughs happily when the water rises to his ankles, a picture of happiness breaking over his face. ‘It tickles too.’

Youngjo concentrates on eating, because otherwise he knows that he’ll stare at him. He keeps catching himself watching Hwanwoong even when he is not aware of it. Instead of staring into space, he finds his eyes straying to his face. There’s so much to consider about Hwanwoong. His features are soft and delicate but there’s a hardness to his eyes. Whenever he is in company, he is always smiling, laughing at everyone else’s jokes, but whenever Youngjo catches his eye when no one else is looking at him, his face has returned level and the smile is gone.

‘I keep thinking about when you get to the finals,’ says Hwanwoong, ‘and you’re going to be on the television. My parents are going to think there’s another Yeo Hwanwoong wandering around!’

‘I hope they never find out the danger I’ve put you in.’ Youngjo picks at his food with his fingers. ‘They might not want us to hang around anymore.’

‘You say that like we’re kids,’ Hwanwoong rolls his eyes. Then he kicks his feet in the water and looks down at them as he asks, ‘do you think your parents will watch too?’

‘Most likely, yes.’

‘They watch a lot of competitions?’

‘My father does,’ he says, even though he doesn’t know if it is true anymore. It has been years since he last went home. A vague memory of the three of them wanders into his mind, huddled in the small living room as they watched the National Championships one year in his early teens. The front door shook with the force of banging when someone came to speak to his father. His mother had put her arm around Youngjo’s shoulders and steered him away into the back-room even as he protested, angry to be pulled away from the competition.

‘I bet they’ll be proud if they see you battle. Have you talked to them recently?’ Hwanwoong goes on.

‘No. Not for a few months. My mother called me on my birthday last year.’

‘Why don’t you talk to them?’

Youngjo looks down. ‘So long as I keep doing what I’m told, their involvement with Team Rocket is over. I’d rather keep them as distant from everything as possible. That way they have a chance to rebuild their lives. Besides, I travel a lot. I don’t keep one phone for a very long time. And if they knew where I was or what I was doing at any time it could incriminate them. Don’t forget that I have the police on my tail. No. It’s safer for them to be out of my life.’

‘But you’re their son.’

‘I know, Hwanwoong, I hadn’t forgotten,’ he says, his voice a little too hard.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.’

He rubs his face and shakes his head. ‘I know you didn’t.’

Before Hwanwoong can say anything else, they both look up, distracted by the loud sound of commotion not too far away. There is a low growl and a screech and Youngjo jumps to his feet, ready to cover Hwanwoong. ‘Someone might be in trouble!’ shouts Hwanwoong though, and he pushes Youngjo straight out of the way to run in the direction of the disturbance. Cursing under his breath, Youngjo turns to chase after him, the torchlight spinning around the cavern.

The scene towards the tail-like far end of their cave formation is laid out like a brutal battle in the Championship finals. A blur of brown claws and dust and rock fragments, it takes Youngjo a moment to figure out what he is looking at. Pokémon are fighting. Three Sandslash have set upon one smaller Pokémon. Another Sandslash. It fights back with a screech and a swipe of claws that makes Hwanwoong look away with a gasp and bury his head in Youngjo’s jacket. Unperturbed by the blood, Youngjo steps forward, one arm around Hwanwoong’s body, and tries to push his way between them.

The Sandslash, though, are fixated on their fight.

He fumbles with one hand for his Poké Ball and releases his Umbreon. Raven stretches her back and hisses at the sight of the commotion. She turns to one side and uses a quick Sand-Attack until the Pokémon splutter in the cloud. With her Confuse Ray, the fight turns to one of clumsy confusion. Youngjo manages to force himself between the Pokémon and with Umbreon hissing for another attack, the other Sandslash turn heel and race away, chattering far into the darkness. The one smaller Sandslash remains, and makes a lunge with a menacing claw right at Youngjo’s face.

‘Whoa, whoa!’ he stumbles back, and Hwanwoong falls to one side. ‘I’m not going to hurt you!’

Raven, enraged by the attack of her Trainer, launches at the Sandslash too and a new scuffle begins. The exhausted ground Pokémon is no match for the well-trained Umbreon. She pins it down and turns her face to Youngjo. He pulls out a Great Ball and runs his thumb over the ridges in the blue metal. The only way to calm this Pokémon down is to return it to the warmth and safety of a Poké Ball. Raven jumps out of the way as he throws the ball and a flash of red light spills across the cave walls.

The ball drops, the Sandslash captured, and it vibrates for a moment before stilling.

Youngjo and Hwanwoong both stare at the innocent looking ball, before Youngjo picks it up and turns it around in his hand. ‘I never knew Sandslash would come into the caves like this.’

‘They tend to stick to their desert territory but they do come to wet caves for a water source,’ says Hwanwoong. ‘Seeing them fight like that… I always forget how brutal the wild can be for Pokémon, way worse than trainer battles!’

Youngjo exhales slowly. His heart is racing against his chest, the adrenaline of the wild fight making his fingers buzz. Hwanwoong is right. Fighting in the arena is not as vicious as this. Out in the wild, food and water and territory is at stake. In competition there are always medics and nurses nearby and the Pokémon use their best attacks, not claws and talons meant to draw blood; there are rules against such below-the-belt fighting in competition. Winning is about honour and pride, not survival like this. Spilled quills and a spatter of blood cover the rocks here. ‘Let’s move,’ he says, ‘I want to get this Pokémon to a Pokémon Centre before I release it.’

Even though it cuts their trip short, Hwanwoong nods in instant agreement.

Finding their way out of the caves takes longer than Youngjo had hoped. Every time that they travel around in a circle his tension rises and he grits his teeth. They were supposed to take their time over this, but instead his skin is itching with impatience and his throat feels tight. He looks left and right, searching for landmarks, and curses when he sees nothing. Edgier than ever he stalks one way then the other, muttering under his breath. How big can these caves be? If they could only find another trainer but there’s not one around and –

‘Hyung slow down!’ Hwanwoong grabs his arm. ‘Take a breather.’ He reaches up and holds Youngjo’s cheek with his palm.

Youngjo closes his eyes and sighs. He tilts his face into his hand and concentrates on the brush of Hwanwoong’s cool fingers. The anxiety starts to abate and he finds that he’s concentrating on his breathing. With every breath he holds for a second before exhaling, and his heartrate begins to slow. ‘Sorry. I don’t like these caves. I’m getting claustrophobic.’

‘It’s okay. We’ll just follow the rivulets upstream until we get back to the waterfall and then we know we’ll be close to the exit. Follow me.’ He slides his hand down from Youngjo’s face and takes his hand instead, interlinking their fingers as he pulls them back into the darkness.

~

‘This Pokémon will struggle to survive out in the wild,’ says the nurse at the small Pokémon Centre amidst the caves. The area is less of a town and more a collection of buildings established for the visiting trainers, including an Inn, a café, a Pokémon Centre and several stalls selling goods. Atop the silver table in the Pokémon Centre, Sandslash tilts his head to one side and watches Hwanwoong with keen, analytical eyes. The Pokémon is wrapped up in white bandage over a bare skin where quills have been ripped from the root. ‘He’s too small.’

Hwanwoong plays with Sandslash’s clawed paw and smiles. The hide on his hand is rough and thick, indestructible to attacks from many Pokémon, especially the electric type, but he knows that evolution has not protected it from attack from its own kind. ‘Can we keep him?’ he pouts, and Youngjo raises his eyebrows.

‘We?’

‘You. Will you keep him?’

‘Of course.’ Youngjo reaches out and smooths the quills down Sandslash’s back. ‘He’s a small fighter, my favourite kind.’

Hwanwoong’s cheeks turn pink. ‘Really?’

‘Quite inspiring to watch,’ muses Youngjo, and then he smiles. ‘Let’s go for a walk while the nurse does her checks.’

The area around the caves is sandy and devoid of green. One stall sells flowers, the only splash of colour in the tiny town, and Hwanwoong buys a small plant to take back to the hotel like a good luck charm. Even the few houses look beaten down by the harsh conditions out here, but the locals are friendly, excited by the increased presence of travelling trainers in the area as a result of the competition. Back in the city, some of the crowds have begun to dissipate, as eliminated trainers take their leave and move on to new adventures, but Hwanwoong knows the buzz will awake again when it is time for the grand finals.

‘What Pokémon do you really want to catch?’ asks Youngjo, stopping at a stall to pick up a drink for Hwanwoong. ‘Which one really has your eye, that you’re hoping to run into on your travels?’

‘All of them! But there are some that I’d really like to catch. I like Minccino.’

‘Mousey looking thing?’

Hwanwoong pulls a face. ‘You need to brush up on your knowledge, hyung. But yes. Kind of. I like Mareep. And _Snorlax_!’

‘Snorlax?’ Youngjo snickers, and Hwanwoong shoves his shoulder but he is barely knocked off course. ‘I can picture that.’

‘What about you? Which Pokémon have you always wanted to catch?’

Youngjo muses with his eyes cast up at the sky. A thin layer of cloud has spilled over sun, giving them a layer of protection from the heat. ‘When I was younger I was really interested in the legendary Pokémon. I did lots of studying. My mother always said that she would prefer me to become a scientist or a researcher, rather than a trainer like my father. She said being a trainer is very dangerous. Now look at me. My father wanted me to be a Pokémon Master, though.’

‘Well maybe, once you win the competition, we can go looking for legendary Pokémon.’

‘Do you really think that I can win, Hwanwoong?’

‘Of course!’ he says, and his voice does not falter. Inside, his thoughts spin around. There are some seriously good trainers left in the competition, and some of them seem much more experienced than Youngjo and their Pokémon are bigger, stronger. But Youngjo has things that they don’t. He has heart and willpower and he wants it, needs it, more than them. Besides, he has Hwanwoong. ‘I’m counting on it. I wouldn’t have made you do it if I didn’t think you could win.’

‘What about when I have to face Dongju?’ Youngjo says casually.

Hwanwoong looks up and frowns. ‘There are still loads of people left in the competition, hyung. The chances are small.’

‘But you’ve thought about it?’

Hwanwoong cannot lie. ‘Yes. Yes, I’ve thought about it. Obviously I’ve thought about it. Dongju’s one of the best trainers in the competition, b-but that doesn’t mean he’s unbeatable. His Pokémon have some weaknesses and he’s also brash, over-confident, and - ’

‘I don’t mean have you thought about the battle, I mean have you thought about what it would mean? He’s your friend.’

‘You’re my friend too.’

‘Either way someone would be hurt, Hwanwoong.’

Hwanwoong swallows and glares at Youngjo for bringing this up. The chances of the two of them both progressing far enough to risk coming up against each other is still so low, it’s too early to be talking about this yet. The thought has hovered around the back of his mind but he’s kept it there as it isn’t useful yet. ‘You need this more than him,’ he says quietly. ‘There will be lots more competitions that Dongju can win.’ Though the words are true, they feel like the utmost betrayal to voice aloud. He crosses his arms and looks down at the floor while they walk.

‘I can’t even imagine standing in the centre of that huge arena,’ Youngjo clears his throat, moving on. ‘If I do make it there, then perhaps I’ll get stage fright.’

‘You’ll be _fine_! I’m sure you’ve done much scarier things with Team Rocket.’

Looking around to check that nobody is eavesdropping, Youngjo sighs. ‘I’ve done some dangerous things, yes.’

‘What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?’

‘I was sent to orchestrate a trade, once. I won’t tell you what the trade was. But things went south when the men we were meeting decided that our offering didn’t meet the mark. They were armed with firearms, and their Pokémon were as dangerous as the guns. We had to make a quick exit. This Drapion chased me down five alleys, crushed a car in two when I tried to get behind it. I only got away because they caught the other grunt that I was working with and I had a chance to scale the side of this building.’ As he tells the story, he rubs his arms as though cold and his gaze turns distant. ‘It shook me up for a really long time.’

‘What happened to - ’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Are all the other grunts there for the same reason as you? Is that how they get all their people?’

‘No, no. Some of them are. Some of them come along voluntarily to work and scrape together some pennies. Some of them are just thugs who want a thrill. I wouldn’t say any two of us are here for the exact same reasons. Not that it stops the police treating us all the same way.’

‘Are you scared of getting caught by the police?’

‘Not as scared as I am of other things.’

Hwanwoong chews his lip and does not ask any more questions, thinking that Youngjo has answered quite enough for one day.

~

Hwanwoong shuffles all the way to the edge of his plastic seat, one hand gripping Keonhee’s forearm as the battle unfolds below. The mid-sized arena is rammed with people. Across the battleground on the other side of the stands, there is not a single seat and the fans look like animations, boxes and boxes of shapes squashed side by side. Twenty rows of Pokémon fanatics take photographs, write notes like Hwanwoong, and gasp excitedly with every development in the match. Youngjo’s battle is the last in the Round of 32, and Hwanwoong has already spotted each of the remaining competitors dotted amongst the crowd. Dongju, being one of those who has already qualified, is in the row behind him.

The battle has come down to a head-to-head between both competitors’ final Pokémon. Youngjo’s, his Umbreon, and the opponent’s, her Roserade. Hwanwoong squeezes Keonhee’s arm so hard that his friend yelps, trying to prise his fingers loose. Raven is dizzy, affected by the poison aroma of the calm Roserade, and she falls back defensively, prowling the edge of the arena on wobbling legs. There is no way for Youngjo to use an antidote during the battle, and Hwanwoong knows that the only way Raven will win now is if she shakes the confusion from her own mind.

He watches the Roserade spin its bouquets, taking a menacing step forward, and clenches his teeth. ‘Come _on_ Raven!’ he says aloud, remembering the way she’d flitted around the Alakazam of the reigning National Champion during Hwanwoong’s favourite battle ever, the way that she’d hustled by pretending to be confused by the Alakazam’s psychic power before launching an unexpected attack.

‘I think she’s done for!’ says Keonhee.

‘No she’s not!’ snaps back Hwanwoong, and when the Roserade reaches close to Umbreon to attack, he grabs Keonhee again. The Roserade advances without putting up its defences, unthreatened by the stricken Umbreon, and lifts one bouqueted arm to strike. Umbreon looks up, a mean glint in her red eyes, and launches forward. The Roserade is caught off balance by the unexpected attack and crashes back to the dust as Raven swipes with her small, steely paws.

The crowd roars with excitement and rises to its feet as one. Hwanwoong has to hop to see above the group in the row in front and lifts his hand to his mouth, gnawing at his nails. The klaxon sounds and a cheer erupts through the audience.

‘What happened? What happened?’ Hwanwoong shouts to Keonhee. The surrounding noise amplified by his hearing aids is deafening.

‘Raven wins! Youngjo wins!’ shouts Keonhee back, and Hwanwoong collapses down into his chair.

‘Hwanwoong wins the match and advances to the Round of 16!’

Relief funnels down his bloodstream on a delay and for a moment his heart keeps thudding against his chest, the accelerated pace making him feel lightheaded. Every time that they call Youngjo by his name, it still takes his mind a moment to get clear. There is something surreal and unsettling about it. He rests his head down on his palms and rubs his eyes.

With Youngjo through to the top 16, there is only one round left before the quarter finals. When the competition moves into the stadium, the battleground will include dangerous habitats that can swing the battle one way or another and sheer strength is no longer enough. The competitors will need wit, and the Pokémon will need intelligence, experience that is hard to come by for the debut competitors. It will suit a Pokémon like Raven.

Only when the rows begin to file out to the steps does Hwanwoong stand again. He’s tired. The last few days have been occupied by battle after battle in rapid succession and he knows that he’s not getting enough sleep. When he and Youngjo went to the practice gym last night, he found himself drifting off with his head against the wall, even on the uncomfortable wooden bench as he watched. At least now they will have two days off, not counting the draw for the next round which will take place tomorrow.

With only sixteen competitors left, including Youngjo and Dongju, Hwanwoong is confident that he knows them all well. Each one has a dedicated page in his journal-turned-notebook, and he has compiled a fairly comprehensive list of their Pokémon by cross-referencing with the earlier rounds. There are a couple that he hopes Youngjo and Dongju avoid in the next round, and others that he thinks they could take easily. Strangely, he seems to know more about some of the competitors’ Pokémon than he does about Dongju’s.

Thus far, Dongju has cycled the same four Pokémon throughout the tournament, and he does not talk too much about who else he has lined up in his arsenal. Whoever he draws, Hwanwoong is sure he will have some route to victory. With every competitor that falls, he realises more and more the level of Youngjo and Dongju’s battling. They really stand a good chance. Seoho and Geonhak watch the matches with expressions of envy and awe, respectively. Keonhee keeps quite quiet about his opinions, a little too pompous to wax lyrical about them, but Hwanwoong knows that he is impressed too.

‘Why don’t you go to see Youngjo? We’ll get food!’ shouts Keonhee.

Hwanwoong nods, then frowns when Seoho winks at Keonhee, then turns to take the steps down to the court anyway.

Youngjo is there to meet him, Raven prowling around his ankles, and he grins. ‘Did you see Raven’s move?’ he says before Hwanwoong can even say anything, and Hwanwoong thinks that he has never seen him so excited. The expression lights up his face and his eyes widen with a thrill. Even his cheeks have a pink glow to them. ‘Dark type Pokémon are the best at feinting!’

‘She was amazing!’ Hwanwoong crouches down and holds out a handful of Pokibble from his pocket for Umbreon to munch on. ‘Is she okay? She won’t feel too many after-effects of the poison?’

‘I gave her an antidote as soon as the battle ended just to be safe, but over the years she has built up a strong resistance to all but the strongest poisons. That strategy won’t work on her.’

Hwanwoong stands. ‘Last 16. Can you believe it?’

Youngjo shakes his head before reaching out and pulling Hwanwoong into a tight hug. Hwanwoong’s cheek squashes into his chest and he manages to adjust his position to rest his forehead into the crook of his neck before Youngjo crushes him completely. ‘I can believe it. You believed that I can get all the way to the final and I believe in what you believe.’

When he is finally released, Hwanwoong beams.

They walk together to the lobby, Youngjo throwing a loose arm over Hwanwoong’s shoulders so that he can guide him amongst the crowd. Lots of people come to greet him, and Hwanwoong has to bite his tongue hard to stop himself responding to his own name. It is as if Youngjo has borrowed his identity. He supposes that he has. He just did not expect it to feel so weird. Strangers approach them, wanting a blow-by-blow description of Raven’s final strike from the perspective down on the battleground. Hwanwoong wonders how much of a local celebrity Youngjo could become if he were to win the entire competition.

‘Yeo Hwanwoong!’

He turns around automatically again, expecting for someone else to ask Youngjo something about the match, and then a stone drops in his stomach. Instantly his head weighs heavier and a swill of acid in his stomach makes nausea rise up inside his body. Officer Jennie has cleaved a path through the crowd, the white blonde streak in her hair unmissable, and she is headed right for them. Hwanwoong backs up and his back bumps into Youngjo’s chest. They both stand still as understanding of the situation starts to compute, and then Hwanwoong looks up at Youngjo.

There’s no point in him trying to make an exit. He would never get through the crowd.

‘H-hello Officer Jennie,’ says Hwanwoong. His voice comes out higher than he expected, a veritable squeak.

‘Why don’t you come with me to somewhere we can talk?’ says Officer Jennie, and her eyes flit to Youngjo. She sizes him up, gaze flickering up and down his body before centring in on her face with narrowed eyes. Hwanwoong gulps. Realisation hits him that this could be the moment that it all ends. His hand closes on instinct around Youngjo’s wrist behind him as a paralysing fear overtakes his body that Youngjo will try to run rather than end up in a locked room with the police. ‘You too,’ adds Officer Jennie, and it is Youngjo that propels Hwanwoong just a little forwards with a gentle push to his back.

Silent, they both follow.

A few people glance their way, but the crowd have since descended on one of the other remaining competitors who has started to boast some way away that he could have defeated that Umbreon _easily_.

‘Y-’ Hwanwoong starts but his mouth hasn’t even formed the first sound before Youngjo shakes his head.

Officer Jennie leads them to an office, no doubt reserved for the admin of the arena, but there are no staff here now. Instead, another Officer that Hwanwoong recognises from the time that they encountered them outside one arena before, is leant against the desk. Overflowing papers spill to the grey carpet below and Hwanwoong finds his eyes drawn down there, fixed on the dust and the dirt of ill-repair. A broken stool is pushed in one corner, as if there is nowhere else in the building to house it, and an ancient white computer buzzes a tired sound in the corner.

At the sight of the second Officer, Youngjo takes a step back and Hwanwoong is forced to grab him by the wrist again to pull him all the way into the office. When the door snaps shut behind them, Hwanwoong looks up and sees in Youngjo’s eyes the expression of a caged animal. He recognises it from the time that his village found a terrified Deerling with its leg stuck in a hunting snare. It had thrashed and thrashed until they had managed to free it. He sees Youngjo’s line of sight drag to the small, closed window, and then around to the door, like he’s calculating escape routes.

Hwanwoong yearns to tell him not to do anything stupid. They can talk their way out of this. _Please don’t do anything stupid_ , he tries to stress with his eyes, but the words are soundless.

Officer Jennie rounds on them with a stern expression. ‘I was surprised when I heard that a Yeo Hwanwoong had advanced so far in the competition! I thought to myself… little Hwanwoong that I met back in Busan? No way. It just seemed impossible. So I thought I’d attend the match today.’

Hwanwoong’s face turns scarlet.

‘Impressive! Another trainer with the same name doing so well! I watched the match, you were quite something,’ she adds to Youngjo, who says nothing. His eyes are wary. ‘Imagine my surprise when you came bounding down to the pitch, Hwanwoong,’ she says, and this time her gaze turns firmly back to him.

‘Officer Jennie, I can explain - ’ Hwanwoong starts, though he has absolutely no idea what his explanation is going to be yet. He hopes that some sort of words will form of their own accord, that an instinct will carry him through this. But it’s not the way that it was in the television shows he watched when he was younger; no clever excuse springs to mind. Instead, he just splutters.

‘I take it that your name _isn’t_ Hwanwoong?’ she says to Youngjo.

Without speaking, he shakes his head, a curt twist once to either side. Hwanwoong can feel the tension bristling from behind him. It radiates. If the Officers can feel it too, then he dreads to think what conclusions they’ll come to. ‘The thing is, Officer, it isn’t what it looks like - ’ Hwanwoong begins this time, since it is clear that Youngjo isn’t going to say anything at all.

Officer Jennie, however, holds up a hand to stop him. ‘Cheating isn’t illegal, Hwanwoong.’

‘We’re not cheating! It’s not like that!’ he gasps, as though cheating is a worse thing to be accused of than a serious crime. His palms have turned sweaty and he shoves his hands in his pockets to try to stop them shaking. ‘It’s - ’

‘Everyone cheats at these competitions,’ she goes on like he hadn’t interrupted at all. ‘Officer Jisoo and I are part of the special task-force set up to track down the most dangerous Team Rocket agents, we don’t busy ourselves with such minor business.’

Slowly, just slightly, Hwanwoong’s heart rate starts to slow. Somewhere amongst his fear, he can begin to formulate a way out of this conversation that involves only a stern talking-to and a slap on the wrist.

‘But ever since we met in Busan, I’ve been worried about you, Hwanwoong. I feel that I need to keep an eye on you since your parents aren’t around.’

‘I’m an adult!’ he groans, sick of everyone saying this to him.

‘I don’t want you falling in with the wrong crowd. And cheating just doesn’t sound like you, not the Hwanwoong I met. I just want to check that everything’s okay.’ Her eyes glance at Youngjo again, then back to his. ‘Where are your other friends? How about the one that I met at the inn? He was a nice boy. Are they around? Are you still travelling together?’

‘Yes, yeah! Dongju is competing too! He’s doing really well,’ Hwanwoong says very quickly, the words tripping over each other. ‘And my friends Keonhee and Seoho and Geonhak are here too, they just went to pick up some food. I’m not by myself. I’m having a great time at the competition.’

‘Why is this man competing under your name?’

Hwanwoong clears his throat. This is his moment to square his shoulders and act more confidently than he ever has before. ‘This is my friend, Y-Youngjo.’ When he says his name, Youngjo glances at him with a furious expression, but Hwanwoong continues nonetheless. There are plenty of Youngjos bouncing around, and he cannot think of any reason why it could cause them a problem; the last thing he wants is for them to get caught out using false names a second time. ‘I applied to take part in the competition, and Youngjo really wanted to compete too but he was too late to sign up, he missed the deadline since he was out of town. My Pokémon aren’t really ready to be in a big competition yet so I said he could take my place. We’re not even cheating, it really is Youngjo’s first competition and he’s fighting fair and square! It was just the deadline…’ he trails off, happy with his own display.

Officer Jisoo paces the office, and Hwanwoong watches Officer Jennie, hoping that she will buy his explanation.

‘You’re sure that this man is your friend?’ says Officer Jennie.

‘Yes!’

‘He didn’t ask you to give up your place? Threaten you somehow?’

‘ _No_!’ he says, aghast at such an accusation. Behind him, he can hear Youngjo’s breathing, measured and slow but heavy. ‘God, no!’

‘Do you want to talk alone?’

‘This is ridiculous! Youngjo’s my friend, like my best friend. This just isn’t a big deal, I swear.’

He spins around when he hears a tussle, and his heart jumps to his throat when he sees that Officer Jisoo has grabbed Youngjo by the arm. Before he can even react, before either of them even realise what she is doing, she has dragged his sleeve up past his elbow and pulled his arm out straight. Youngjo wrenches it away and turns with catlike speed towards the door, but Officer Jennie slams it shut before he can pull it a foot open, and she has drawn a weapon. Hwanwoong gasps in horror, reaching out for Youngjo, before he realises that the gun is a blue plastic taser.

‘Don’t move!’ she shouts.

The tattoo on Youngjo’s bicep curls black and twisted. A snake, wrapped crushingly tight around some small, contorted creature. Hwanwoong sees it properly now.

‘I knew it!’ says Officer Jisoo.

Hwanwoong pushes himself forward even as she tries to grab him and places himself between the taser and Youngjo, throwing his arms out to protect his body. ‘Stop!’ he shouts, but he knows that his words are useless. ‘You don’t understand!’

‘Hwanwoong, move out of the way. You’re completely safe,’ says Officer Jennie in a slow, calm voice. ‘But this man is very dangerous. If you just take two steps towards Officer Jisoo now…’

He does not move, rooted to the spot. ‘I can _explain_!’

The last word is jolted from his lips as Youngjo pushes him hard in the back. He stumbles, falling out of the line of fire, and Officer Jisoo catches him, pulling him safe over towards the desk as Youngjo launches himself at the door. There’s a crack, a moan, a thump and a grunt as he hits the floor, the door still half-open where Officer Jennie slammed it against his head, and Hwanwoong gasps. He jumps forward, slipping the Officer’s grip, and grabs Youngjo’s face, brushing his hair back where blood drips from his forehead.

Youngjo is dazed. He tries to climb to his feet but he stumbles. Even as the Officers start to pull him back again, Hwanwoong plants his feet and grabs Youngjo’s arm to try to keep him steady. His small hand covers the grim, incriminating tattoo as if it were never there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone ^-^ I’m here with Chapter 11! I hope that you’re all having a wonderful New Year. And anticipating the new album with glee ^-^ Thank you everyone who commented on the last chapter. I feel like we’ve already been on this journey together for a long time now!

‘How are you feeling?’

Youngjo looks up from the coffee that they’ve pushed across the table. It’s in a cheap, plain white polystyrene cup, and when he closes a hand around it he finds that it is only warm. A dull throbbing pain nags at his forehead and has travelled down behind his eye. Steri-strips hold the cut together. ‘Concussed, perhaps,’ he says, and his voice is very dry. The hand on his warm coffee is steady, but he picks at the scratchy surface with one persistent nail.

‘You shouldn’t have tried to run,’ says Officer Jennie. This is not by any means the first time that Youngjo has seen her, but it’s the first time that he’s examined her at such close range. There’s a sharpness about her, angular features and keen eyes. Despite the chaos of the day, her hair is neat and her uniform seems freshly ironed; it impresses him, this kind of attention to detail. ‘Which brings me to the question. Why _did_ you run? That’s hardly the behaviour of an innocent man. Very suspicious.’

Clearing his throat, Youngjo picks up his cup and takes two gulps. It has the bitter tinge of cheap instant coffee and long-life milk. ‘You were pointing a taser at me. It made me… skittish.’

Their eyes meet across the top of the cup. This is not, Youngjo knows, an interrogation room in the traditional sense. They are not even at a police station. Instead, they are in an office, one that appears to have been set up in haste. The filing cabinets are half-open and there’s a pin-board behind the desk but it is propped up against the wall rather than hung. He knows that he has not been placed under arrest, and he knows why, but he itches to phone a lawyer nonetheless. Team Rocket have people for this. But as soon as he involves them, the situation will become murkier. There’s still a way out of this that won’t blow everything up. If he just plays his cards right…

Officer Jennie sighs. ‘Look, Youngjo… if that is even your real name?’

‘It is.’

‘Youngjo, you and I both know that _unfortunately_ having a Team Rocket tattoo is not a criminal offence.’

‘We do both know that. We also both know that I didn’t have a weapon on my person after a very over-zealous search. We also both know that there was no suggestion that I had committed any kind of crime when your colleague assaulted me. I’m not under arrest. And I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know what exactly I’m doing here, other than drinking my way through crap coffee?’ Everything about his tone is measured. He has been well drilled for situations like this, though it is the first time that he has found himself at the table itself.

The Team Rocket emblem on his bicep stings the way that it always does when he’s stressed. His free hand drifts to it automatically, scratching at it through his shirt. The accursed thing. If he could claw it off his skin with his fingernails then he would.

‘You’re manipulating your way in the competition.’

‘Again, not a crime.’

Officer Jennie grits her teeth. ‘You’re messing with this boy Hwanwoong, and I won’t stand for it. I don’t know how he got wrapped up with you but you need to end it now, or I’ll be your damned shadow for as long as you live.’

He understands the protective edge in her tone. It is easy to feel protective of Hwanwoong. Within moments of meeting him, most people fall victim to that. ‘Hwanwoong is my friend. I care very much about him. I would never let any harm come his way; I’d sooner die. It’s not illegal for me to have friends either, as far as I know?’

She slams her hand down onto the desk. ‘Why the tournament? What are you planning? What is Team Rocket planning?’

Youngjo laughs and shakes his head. ‘It’s just a competition. That’s all it is. If I win, then I’ll have enough money to pay my debts. I don’t have to tell you what that could mean for me.’ He’s careful with his words, careful not to confess anything at all, but he knows that she will know what he is talking about. ‘Hwanwoong is a friend. He’s helping me out. You can put all of this on the record, I don’t care. Once the tournament is done, _I’m_ … done.’ He’s careful with those words again but they’re obvious in meaning. ‘I just want to get out.’ He searches in her eyes for a response, but he soon realises that Officer Jennie can be as guarded as he is.

She taps her nails on the desk and then sits back too. ‘I have bigger fish to fry than a grunt like you,’ she says, and Youngjo’s lips almost twitch to a smile. They’ve seen his age and assumed the best; agents are usually several years older than him. No doubt they’ve assumed that no agent, either, would be stupid enough to sign up to the biggest competition in the city with the eyes of a hundred thousand camera lenses on him. They think he’s a low-level grunt, an idiot, but not as dangerous as he could be. As he is. Yes, he’s been lucky. Lucky again. Just like he was back on Jeju. ‘But that doesn’t mean I won’t be watching you. Like a hawk. And the first chance I have to arrest you, I will. If you put a single toe out of line, if you steal so much as a candy wrapper, I’ll arrest you. Just for that filthy tattoo on your skin. Make no mistake.’

‘Does that mean I’m free to go?’ he says, in a mock polite tone.

‘Yes,’ she says, and he knows that it’s out of obligation that she says it. They’ve got no cause to hold him.

He stands and turns towards the door, leaving his half-finished coffee on the desk.

‘Youngjo?’ she says, before he can grip the handle. ‘If you did want to… get out… you should know that there are all sorts of lucrative deals that the police can offer. Money. Protection. In exchange for a few pieces of information about the higher-ups. My team are investigating an agent that goes by the codename RAVN, and we’re hoping to find his superior in the process.’

This time he does smile. ‘I’ve heard about people who go into your protection programs, Officer. They fish them out months later, from the bottom of lakes.’ It’s true. If it’s one thing that Youngjo has learned, it’s that people don’t get away with betraying Team Rocket. Already, he has escaped his fate once on Jeju, and he is not going to chance that luck again. ‘Where’s Hwanwoong? I know that he’ll be worrying.’

‘In my colleague’s office,’ she says drily, ‘I’d like to have a word with him. I’m sure you’re capable of finding your own way home.’

He takes the stairs down out of the office block two at a time, blinking away the dizziness that makes him grab the railing. The cut on his head is a small price to pay for getting out of this, but the throbbing pain occupies his mind as well as his vision. As soon as he gets back outside, he needs to get in contact with Agent Sun. If they find out that he’s been picked up by the taskforce without notifying them, then he’ll be in a whole new world of pain. Thoughts push their way through the ache in his skull. How could he have been so stupid as to get into all of this?

He’d believed Hwanwoong’s youthful optimism.

He’d let it wash over him.

And he’d let himself care.

~

Hwanwoong hunches his legs up on the chair and looks around the small office. If this is what being arrested is like, then it’s not as bad as he imagined, but his stomach is still churning and there’s dried blood on his fingertips. Youngjo’s blood. He rubs his eyes with the balls of his hands and imagine how it will be to be sent back to his village in disgrace. He sure has made a big mess of his Pokémon journey. It strikes him now that maybe he was wrong. Maybe the competition was the fantasy of a little kid, not the reality of a cruel world.

‘Am I under arrest?’ he says immediately when the door opens, letting his feet drop.

‘No, no of course not,’ sighs Officer Jennie. ‘That doesn’t mean you’re not in trouble.’

He bites his lip. ‘Are you going to call my parents?’

‘Are you under eighteen?’

‘No.’

‘Then we’re hardly going to summon them to meet the Principal,’ she says with a half-smile, and he glares down at the floor.

‘Sorry, it’s easy to forget when everyone treats me like I’m five.’

Officer Jennie sits down across from him and Hwanwoong feels the heat of shame rising up his face. He really let her down. ‘Here, drink some of the water,’ she says, pushing across the cup. ‘Are you feeling okay? I’m sure what happened in the office has shaken you up a bit.’

‘I’ve managed worse,’ he mutters, thinking about the attack from the Team Rocket grunt on Jeju island. It feels like a lifetime ago already that they travelled to rescue Dongju’s Pokémon. In spite of everything, that now feels like a better time. Much as he’d sworn to the others that he could take everything seriously, in retrospect that time felt like a game; there hadn’t felt any real risk. Now, with Youngjo’s blood under his nails, it all feels more real. This is no child’s play. ‘I’m fine,’ he adds, this time in a clearer voice. ‘Where’s Youngjo?’

‘I don’t know,’ shrugs Officer Jennie, ‘he left a few minutes ago.’

That makes Hwanwoong sit up in his seat. ‘You let him go?’

‘He hasn’t committed any crime that we can hold him for. I’m disappointed in you, Hwanwoong. That you knew what he was and you still continued to associate with him.’

‘He’s my friend, Officer Jennie! He’s not like what people think he is! If we win the competition then - ’

She holds up a hand. ‘I’ve heard it all from him. It’s a ridiculous idea. You should’ve come to the police right away if he really wanted out.’

‘You wouldn’t have understood,’ he says, jutting his chin out with false confidence. He remembers what Youngjo said about the police treating them all the same. In his mind’s eye, the sequence of Youngjo’s head hitting the door plays out in front of him. ‘This way is better. He can win. _Please_. You have to let us do this. Please. I know you think he’s a bad influence on me, but that’s not the way it is. I’m the good influence on him! Besides, it’s my game, not his, it was all my idea. I suggested it. Please let us try, even if it’s just for me.’

‘I’d rather you never saw him again.’

‘He’s my best friend!’

‘You don’t know that. People like him… they’re manipulative, clever, and you’re the perfect person to use for something nefarious. You know that you’re naïve. That’s not a bad thing but it puts you at risk. He’ll drop you when he doesn’t need you anymore.’

‘So what if he does?’ Hwanwoong says softly. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it. If Team Rocket are as sly as everyone says they are, then of course there’s a chance that Youngjo will slink away like a snake once he has his money. Yes, Hwanwoong has considered it. ‘I haven’t compromised myself, I stand by what I’ve done. I haven’t been hurt. It’s not like the money would’ve been mine anyway. If it does happen then it happens. But I don’t lose anything.’ _Except my heart_ , he adds in his mind, but he doesn’t say that out loud. If Youngjo were to betray him, then he thinks he would never stop crying. He thinks he’d crawl back to his village of his own accord and spend the best of his life in his bed.

‘Well don’t let him drag you into something that _would_ compromise you,’ she says and her voice is more gentle than it has been any other time today. ‘I’d hate to have to arrest you.’

‘Never.’

‘I’ll be watching.’

‘I know.’

‘Okay,’ she sighs, ‘off you go then.’

Hwanwoong is up and out of his seat before she even finishes the last word, racing down the stairwell in the hopes that by some miracle he’ll be able to catch up with Youngjo. His heart pounds against his chest. The fact that they have escaped unscathed is one miracle already. As his sneakers slap on the steps he almost trips, and he recalls how Youngjo would catch him up at the caves. That, too, feels so long ago. As he pushes open the bar leading out of the fire escape, he bumps headlong into Seoho’s back and catches himself by grabbing the back of his jacket.

‘Damnit, Woong!’ gasps Seoho, hauling him back up. ‘We were scared sick!’

Geonhak and Dongju and Keonhee are here too. Their familiar faces looking at him with such concern make Hwanwoong want to burst into tears. But there is no sign of Youngjo. ‘How did you find us?’

‘Dongju saw the police leading you out and tailed you!’ says Keonhee.

‘God, Woong, you really put your foot in it this time!’

‘Where’s Youngjo?’ he asks. They can chastise him later.

‘He raced straight off. Said he needed to speak to his superiors,’ says Geonhak. ‘And he told us not to try to follow him.’

‘Which direction?’

‘ _Not_ to follow him, Hwanwoong,’ repeats Seoho.

‘Let’s go back to the hotel,’ says Keonhee in a commanding voice. It is difficult to argue with him when he speaks like this. Everyone nods, falling into step behind him as they start to interrogate Hwanwoong about his run-in with the police. Dongju wraps an arm around his shoulders in a gesture that should be comforting but it just makes Hwanwoong feel even worse and he hunches up his body, staring down at the ground. His answers are monosyllabic.

As soon as they get back to the hotel, Hwanwoong crawls into bed and squeezes his eyes shut, crushed by the wave of realisation that everything has started to fall apart. He doesn’t even move when he feels Keonhee pull his socks off and hears him release Growlithe from his Poké Ball. Growlithe jumps up onto the mattress and paces around for a moment before licking Hwanwoong’s cheek. Even in the depths of his misery, he opens up his arms and Growlithe curls up between them. The reassuring warmth reminds him that whatever happens, there’s one friend who will always be there for him.

‘Hwanwoong, do you want to eat?’ asks Seoho.

He doesn’t answer and instead reaches up to take off his hearing-aids. He has no desire to talk.

One day passes into another with no change. Dongju and Seoho and Geonhak disappear to attend the draw for the next round, the final 16, of the competition, but Hwanwoong stays behind, curled up in bed. Keonhee tries to coax him with food, which Growlithe eats out of his hand instead, but Hwanwoong just turns away and stares at the wall. He’s frustrated, irritated that the others went to the draw when the competition seems like such a silly thing now. He’d almost got Youngjo in serious trouble, all for the childish dream of winning.

Now, with Youngjo at serious risk from both the police and from his superiors, the whole thing seems like a laughable pipe dream.

‘Please eat something, Woong,’ says Keonhee, so close to his ear that he can make the words out with relative clarity.

‘Don’t want to,’ he mumbles. He doesn’t feel like eating any more than he feels like moving. A thought crosses his mind that he may never even see Youngjo again, and he tries to imagine moving on with his journey without him. His stomach twists and he tucks his legs up to his chest, hugging them close in to his body like if he becomes the tiniest ball possible, he might fade away altogether. Except he doesn’t want to fade away. He wants to go backwards. Back in time. He wants to undo what has been done.

Keonhee strokes his hair and sighs. ‘You getting sick again isn’t going to help anyone, including Youngjo.’

The mention of his name aloud makes Hwanwoong grab at his pillow and squash it over his head. He contemplates sleeping again, but his sleep overnight was fragmented and plagued by bad dreams. The realities in both consciousness and unconsciousness both seem equally bad, so he would rather choose the one in which there is at least a chance of word from Youngjo.

Keonhee says something again, but this time Hwanwoong can’t hear it, and he’s happier about that. Allowing his eyes to fall closed, he concentrates on the inside of his lids and the strange patterns that the darkness forms as his eyes adjust. With his reduced hearing, added darkness brings him into a world in which he can pretend things are different. Outside becomes distant and inside, governed by his heart, becomes closer. He indulges in that, and pictures Youngjo bursting through the hotel door to announce that everything is going to be fine.

Thoughts of their day together at the caves race across his mind and he squeezes his eyes shut tighter. For a moment, then, everything was so perfect. He recalls the gentle grip of Youngjo’s hands on his waist, so anxious to hold his steady but so afraid to grasp him too tight. Hwanwoong bites his lip as his eyes start to sting. Officer Jennie is wrong. Youngjo would never abandon him. He won’t. Hwanwoong trusts him so innately that his heart calms down when he thinks about him, rather than speeding up.

At some point, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, Hwanwoong must drift into sleep again. There are no dreams this time, only blackness and a dull ache in his arm from the uncomfortable position, and then as soon as he has drifted away he is jerked back to life by hands on his shoulders.

He yelps, flinching away, throwing the pillow aside.

For a second, a crazy second, he hopes that it might be Youngjo.

When he opens his eyes, he’s met with an overexcited Dongju, face lit up with smiles. Of course. This is about the competition. Hwanwoong tries to push him away, not wishing to hear about it, but Dongju is so persistent that he reaches breaking point. ‘Leave me alone!’ he snaps, however childish it might be, but Dongju grabs at his hands and pulls him all the way up out of bed. With a shove to his chest, Hwanwoong gets free and turns away. He glares as he finds his aids and gets ready to snap at him properly.

‘You missed Youngjo!’ says Dongju, breathless. ‘You should’ve come to the draw!’

‘What?’ Hwanwoong’s mind whirs, still half asleep. He feels groggy.

‘Youngjo came to the draw, for the next round.’

‘You saw him?’ Still everything takes a moment to piece together. ‘You saw Youngjo?’

Dongju rests his hands on Hwanwoong’s arms and propels him back to the bed, like he’s worried that he might fall over. ‘Yes. Yes, he came.’

‘What did he say to you?’

‘We didn’t talk to him. He pretended like we weren’t even there, Hwanwoong. But it’s okay. I’m sure that he’s just being careful.’

‘How did he look? Did he look hurt?’

‘Nasty cut on his head.’

‘Yes, I know that!’ says Hwanwoong in frustration. ‘But was there anything new? I need to know how much trouble he’s in with his bosses. They’ll blame him for being caught by the police.’

Dongju shrugs. ‘He looked fine. I don’t know. I didn’t want to stare too much and he was across the room.’

Hwanwoong bites his lip, cursing himself for staying home in bed like a child instead of facing the draw himself. He’s screwed up again. Every step that he takes at the moment seems to be in the wrong direction. ‘One of you should have followed him, tried to talk to him afterwards,’ he says, wondering where Youngjo is now. Where he’ll be tonight. Where will he be sleeping? He considers running down to the street, like he’ll somehow be able to catch up with him.

‘I think we should give him some space, Woong,’ says Dongju gently, brow a little furrowed, ‘he said that we shouldn’t follow him before.’

‘He doesn’t need space, he needs his friends!’

‘We don’t know what’s going on with him,’ Dongju continues, unperturbed. ‘If he says that he wants to be left alone for a while then we should respect that. I’m sure that he’ll be figuring things out in his own way. If he’d wanted to talk to us, then he would have come to talk to us. Let’s just see how things unfold for a little while. He’s already a flight-risk as it is, we don’t want to make things more complicated for him.’

‘He didn’t come over to talk to you because I wasn’t there!’ says Hwanwoong, ignoring all of that. ‘Once he sees me, he’ll be fine. We need to get tickets for his match tomorrow. Keonhee can get them. Who’s he battling?’

‘Yongseung,’ says Dongju, and Hwanwoong’s heart falls.

The young trainer is one of the best left in the competition. And his partner Pokémon is a Granbull, the fairy type posing significant risk in battle against Youngjo’s Umbreon. Hwanwoong has details of all of his Pokémon scrawled down in his journal, but he has no way to get them to Youngjo. His friend needs him. He slumps down on the bed and chews at his lip, trying to push away the thoughts that creep into his mind of what they might be doing now if they hadn’t been caught at that match before. He shakes his head.

There is still hope.

Youngjo hasn’t given up.

And Hwanwoong will never give up either.

~

The battle takes place in the largest arena yet, and the rows and rows of seating make Hwanwoong feel very small. Keonhee has got them tickets only in one of the furthest rows back, and Hwanwoong has a sneaking suspicion that it is because he agrees with Dongju, that they should keep their distance. The second battle, Dongju’s attempt to reach the quarter finals, will take place in the afternoon and he has bowed out to spend the morning in one of the practice halls with Keonhee, leaving Seoho and Geonhak to (as they described it themselves) ‘keep an eye on Hwanwoong.’

It’s like they think he’ll charge down in the middle of the match to embrace Youngjo, centre stage.

He wishes that they’d give him a little more credit.

The ambitious young trainer Yongseung is already present in the arena, pacing around with his Granbull in toe. He’s very friendly, stopping to talk to some of the fans as they spill into their seats, but Hwanwoong knows that there is a hard edge to him in battle. He won’t be pushed aside easily. From Hwanwoong’s predictions, the other two Pokémon that he will use are likely to be Electabuzz, in anticipation of Youngjo’s Mantine, or Onix, in case Youngjo takes the route of his Manectric. Hwanwoong hopes not, as Manectric is shy and reserved and could well be intimidated badly by a Pokémon of that size.

None of his own analysis can help Youngjo now. He tucks his legs up on the seat and looks up to the towering roof of the enclosed arena. There are lighting rigs set up for other events, a complex network of silver piping that he follows like a map. If he looks forward, he can still just about make out the individual faces of the attending fans opposite, but he knows that once they are in an even bigger arena, he won’t be able to do so anymore.

‘There, Woong,’ Seoho squeezes his arm and his eyes flit down instead.

Youngjo has arrived. A wave of relief crashes over him. At least he has shown up. Then a wave of worry washes over him again too and fiddles with his shirt cuffs, trying to occupy his anxious hands. A glance at his watch tells him that there are only moments before the match will begin. A glance to the furthest corner of the arena tells him that two officers are here and his stomach does a backflip. Officer Jennie wasn’t lying. They are going to be keeping an eye on them.

‘Don’t forget to breathe, Hwanwoong,’ Geonhak reminds him in a gentle tone.

He exhales and then breathes in sharply when the announcer calls for the match to begin.

Youngjo’s first Pokémon is Tauros, and Hwanwoong sits up straighter in his seat, trying to figure that strategy. He places himself in Youngjo’s mind, picturing the discussions that he must have had in his own head, and he can begin to make it out. If Youngjo has anticipated the physically aggressive Pokémon of Yongseung’s team, then there is a chance that he’s trying to tempt them out early in the battle by bringing out his equally physical Tauros. Onix would not be able to keep up with the speed of Tauros, leaving Yongseung with the options of Electabuzz or Granbull if he wants to keep the fight on level strength.

If Tauros can drain the energy of Electabuzz or Granbull, cause some damage, then that opens the door for Raven or Manectric, more fragile in form, to manage the battle in the latter stages. Will Yongseung take the bait? Hwanwoong leans forward in his seat until Seoho has to pull him back by his jacket.

‘Yongseung will use Electabuzz as his first Pokémon!’

Hwanwoong nods. He would’ve preferred Granbull, but this can work in their favour. If Youngjo has selected Mantine for his team, then getting a knock-out for Electabuzz early in the match could be vital. Oh how he wishes that he could’ve been at Youngjo’s side, helping him select this team.

The battle turns physical _fast_.

The crowd lets out a collective groan when one of Tauros’ charging attacks collides with Elecabuzz head-on, and the Pokémon is thrown backwards. However, the Electabuzz is quick to respond, a flash of yellow and black like lightning in the night sky as it crashes down with a menacing Thunder Punch onto the back of Tauros. For a moment, Hwanwoong is sure that the bull will collapse under the impact, back buckling, but it rounds upon the Electabuzz once more and charges it down with gleaming silver horns. Hwanwoong can’t watch, covering his eyes, and at last he understands the warnings from his friends about the violence of serious battle.

It doesn’t look like this on TV.

On TV, you can’t hear the sickening crack of body on body, the buzz of electric energy, the heat of fire attacks, you can’t hear the rush of water or feel the way that the earth moves during an Earthquake attack. Youngjo was right, all of those times that he told Hwanwoong that this kind of battle wouldn’t be for him. He lifts Growlithe up into his lap and strokes his soft fur. He couldn’t put Growlithe through this.

He wants to tell Seoho to let him know once it is all over, but he can’t help but peek through his fingers, and he too jumps back with the rest of the crowd when the Electabuzz is trampled underfoot by Tauros, and the referee calls the fight immediately, before any serious damage can be done.

The second fight is quicker, because Yongseung draws out Onix, and the exhausted Tauros does not have its usual speed. When it is knocked down, Hwanwoong closes his eyes and tightens his fingers on Growlithe’s fur. It is bad enough watching Yongseung’s Pokémon get hurt, but it is even worse seeing the damage to Youngjo’s Pokémon, all of which he knows as well as if they were his own. He remembers Seoho’s wounded Skitty and squeezes his eyes closed again. It’s all too painful to watch.

To his relief, Youngjo has kept Mantine as his second Pokémon, and it defeats the Onix easily with its water attacks, leaving only the dangerous Granbull to face. Some Granbull can be timid, Hwanwoong knows, but this one is trained for battle and he has seen her in her element before. Not wanting to watch more of the violence, he turns his gaze to Youngjo and watches him instead. He throws out an arm in instruction, and Hwanwoong narrows his eyes, because as he gestures he winces. It’s all small movements, but Hwanwoong sits straight in his seat and he can see it.

Youngjo is in pain.

He barely notices the moment in which Granbull is able to take down Mantine with a menacing Crunch of its long canine teeth, focussed only on the trainer as Umbreon leaps out into the arena, eyes sharp for battle.

Hwanwoong can understand why Dongju assumed that Youngjo was fine. Apart from the cut on his forehead, his face is clear, handsome even from this range and focussed on the centre of the battleground. But when he paces the boundary, Hwanwoong can tell that he’s limping. Maybe someone who did not know Youngjo so well would not notice, but he sees it. All of sudden, he begins to think that Seoho and Geonhak might have been right to stand guard over him after all, because he has to fight off the urge to run down the steps right now to be with him.

Granbull is guarded, clever in the battle. She does not over-commit, instead allowing Raven to race circles around her. It won’t make her dizzy, won’t make her begin to flail which has to be the Umbreon’s intention. Hwanwoong clenches his hands on his seat, wishing for this battle to be over, because Youngjo needs to be sitting down, maybe lying down. He needs rest. Raven must be clever. She must be so clever now.

As she circuits the arena, she begins to kick up dust in a Sand Attack and at last the Granbull is forced to act. She makes a lunge for Raven, but the Umbreon slips from her paws and crouches back with an ominous glow of violet energy. Hwanwoong grabs Seoho’s leg as the psychic attack forms, and Seoho winces, prising his fingers off one by one. Only when the Confuse Ray beams across the arena and knocks everyone back with the power of it, does he let go. The Granbull is hit full-on, and she pauses on the spot. At first, Hwanwoong is not sure whether the attack has worked or not, but then the Granbull takes a step forwards and wobbles to one side.

She makes a swipe for Raven, but now Raven’s agility is taking effect. She bounds up around the flat arena, toeing close to the boundaries, allowing the Granbull to lunge in her direction every time. Her Dark type attacks will be little use, and she does not have the physicality to take on the Granbull in a brawl, but she’s clever, very clever. Movement by movement, she coaxes the bulldog closer to the arena’s edge, and Yongseung’s desperate shouts are meaningless to the confused Pokémon. At last, Raven jumps up, flitting over and around the Granbull as it stumbles in a rage, crossing the white-marked boundary with a stagger that sends it landing into the front row of the audience.

‘Granbull as crossed the boundary! Umbreon wins!’

Hwanwoong is up out of his seat before he even thinks about it. He cheers, jumping up and down, wondering if Youngjo will look up towards him, but how would he even see him amongst all of these people?

He tries to be the first to break free from the crowd, but being in the upper rows means that by the time he runs to the bottom of the steps he is caught up in movement. Seoho and Geonhak are too slow to grab him, distracted by the victory, and Hwanwoong shoves his way through the crowd in a panic. There is only a short window of time in which to find Youngjo before he will disappear into the city. Growlithe nips at the ankles of anyone who stands in their way, but by the time they look around angrily Hwanwoong and Growlithe are long past them.

Youngjo is not on the battleground when Hwanwoong reaches the ground, so he swivels around and races to the door to the lobby instead.

Heart pounding, sweat forming on the back of his neck, he sprints on, Growlithe overtaking him as they find their way to the entrance. Quicker, and with a better nose, Growlithe is the one that turns left and starts to bark as they run down the street. Just when Hwanwoong thinks that his lungs will burst if he doesn’t stop, they round a corner and he sees Youngjo’s back. Umbreon has stopped in the street, waiting for her friend to catch up.

‘Youngjo!’ he shouts.

Youngjo turns around slowly, takes a step back, shakes his head. ‘God, Hwanwoong - ’

Hwanwoong runs the rest of the way to catch up with him, lungs screaming for air. His chest heaves. ‘Youngjo, stop!’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I came to watch. I came to find you! I was so worried, Youngjo.’ The words come out in short gasps, and he doubles over, breathing hard. The protective instinct in Youngjo seems to take over, because he sighs, resting a hand on Hwanwoong’s back as he tries to catch his breath.

‘You can’t be here, Woongie,’ says Youngjo in a pained voice, circling his palm between his shoulder blades. Those motions are so at odds with his words. ‘It’s not safe for you to be around me.’

‘I’m not scared of the police!’ he gasps, straightening up.

‘It’s not the police that I’m worried about,’ says Youngjo, and Hwanwoong is at last reminded of Team Rocket.

‘You’re hurt,’ he whispers.

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re not,’ says Hwanwoong, and even as he reaches out to him, Youngjo winces with a clench of his teeth as he pulls away. ‘Let me see it,’ he says, trying again to grab at the hem of his shirt but this time Youngjo pushes him back.

‘I’m fine. I faced a punishment that I knew was coming. I got off lucky.’

‘It’s not safe for you to be around them anymore!’ whispers Hwanwoong.

‘Well then you have nothing to worry about. I’m under strict orders not to make any contact with my superiors for as long as the officers are keeping an eye on me. Like I said, I’m lucky. They’ve even allowed me to continue in the competition; they think it’s a nice distraction for the police, keeps the taskforce away from what’s going on in Seoul.’

‘Come home with me, to the hotel,’ says Hwanwoong. ‘Please. You need rest and someone to take care of you.’

‘Just stay away, Hwanwoong! Doesn’t this prove to you why you can’t be close to me?’

‘We have to stay together!’ he says desperately. ‘Please, Youngjo!’

‘No.’ He turns to walk away.

Hwanwoong catches his wrist. ‘Don’t leave me! You can’t leave me.’

Youngjo’s face is twisted with pain, and this time Hwanwoong knows that it’s not from the beating he must have faced. ‘Please don’t make this even harder.’

‘You can’t leave me alone. Because I - ’

‘You what, Woong?’

‘I – I - ’ He can’t say anything. It’s like he’s as frightened of what could come out of his mouth as Youngjo is.

Youngjo looks around, pulls him to the side of the street and takes his hand in his. ‘I’m going to win this competition, Hwanwoong. And then I’m going to finish my work with Team Rocket. And then when I’m free, I’ll come back for you. I promise. We’ll be together then.’ He lifts Hwanwoong’s hand to his lips and presses a long, agonised, yearning kiss to his knuckles. ‘I promise you.’

‘We can be together _now_ ,’ Hwanwoong whispers.

‘No. I won’t put you in danger. Not anymore. You have to give me time. Let me do this.’

Hwanwoong feels like his heart is being twisted in his chest, far worse than the sharp pain in his lungs from the running. ‘I can’t be without you,’ says Hwanwoong, voice full of hurt.

‘Just give me time.’ Youngjo pulls away from him, dropping his hand, and ducks back out into the crowd of the street.

Hwanwoong tries to chase after him, but immediately he’s buffeted back. ‘Youngjo, wait!’ he shouts in a panic, pulling his journal from his backpack with shaking hands, but when he looks around, Youngjo is gone. Faded into the crowd. Invisible amongst the masses of people. ‘You need this,’ he says in a small voice, withdrawing the notebook to his chest and holding it there over his pounding heart. All of his notes. All of his observations. All of the secrets that Youngjo needs to win. ‘You need me.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


End file.
